The Devil's Sweet Ride
by Adara-chan67
Summary: Sequel to Fight or Flight, crossover with FAKE. Sam and Dean get a lead on a job in California, but they get more than they bargained for when they discover that the victim is one of the last people they'd expected.
1. Prologue: Part I

_Disclaimer: I don't own any characters from Supernatural or FAKE, but there are a couple of OCs that I _do_ own. Their names are Nikki Hudspeth and Derek—for those of you who've read them, that would be the same Derek who made short appearances as Sam's Stanford roommate in _Until The Last Rose Dies _and for about two seconds in _Mine Eyes Have Seen_, and maybe one or two others._

_Characters: Sam and Dean Winchester, Ryo MacLean, Dee Laytner, JJ Adams, Drake…hmm, does he have a last name? Maybe other cameos, and also a couple OCs._

_Setting: Anytime after _Fight or Flight?

_Warnings: Shounen-ai (that means SLASH, AS IN BOY/BOY PAIRINGS. If you didn't know.) That's pretty much it, except for slight language._

_

* * *

_

Prologue

The hospital was quiet as a grave this late at night—visiting hours were over, and since obviously no major surgery would be performed and no diagnoses would be made in the middle of the night, most of the doctors had gone home. The only real sounds came from the nurses making their rounds.

The poor woman who got stuck on the night shift at the nurse's station was bored out of her mind. She'd flipped through every magazine she could get her hands on, but unfortunately there weren't many nearby. Not a single soul had come to ask her for help, and she was beginning to feel fairly useless.

But that didn't mean she actually _wanted_ any patients to come in, and she certainly didn't expect it—this wasn't the emergency room and there was really no other reason for someone to come in at this hour.

So she was fairly shocked when a polite and faintly puzzled voice asked, "Excuse me, ma'am, could I bother you for a minute?"

The nurse glanced up in surprise to look at the young man standing in front of her, waiting patiently for an answer.

"Why…yes, dear, I suppose I can," she said after a moment. She was the motherly kind of woman who called everyone "dear" without really noticing. "What can I do for you?"

He didn't answer—he just looked confused.

"Are you hurt?"

He shook his head hesitantly, as if he wasn't quite sure.

"Do you need directions?"

He hesitated, began to nod, and then shook his head. "Sort of. Maybe."

"Okay…" the nurse said slowly, deciding to lead up to the question gradually. "Listen, why don't you tell me your name?"

The man was silent for a long time, speaking just as the nurse was about to get fed up and suggest that he go fool around with someone else.

"…I can't." She narrowed her eyes suspiciously, and he went on. "Well, that's the trouble, you see. I can't seem to remember who I am."

* * *

_Author's Note: I know, I know, the notes are almost longer than the chapter. And the next chapter will be very short, too. I'm pretty much just airing the idea. But then they'll get longer—I have a very hard time writing short chapters…you guys know that about me…_


	2. Prologue: Part II

Prologue: Part II

"Sammy, why the hell're we here?" Dean Winchester asked irritably as he followed his brother into the local hospital in Palo Alto.

Sam's jaw tightened in a movement so barely perceptible that few people would have picked it up. "I told you already. And stop calling me that."

"Yeah, you told me about the John Doe. What you didn't tell me is how it's our business," Dean replied, ignoring his brother's last words altogether.

"I told you that, too."

"Well, sorry, Sam, but 'just a hunch' doesn't really work for me."

"Why not?" Sam asked, and something in his tone caused Dean to actually desist, sensing danger.

Sam walked up to the head nurse's desk and cleared his throat. "Excuse me."

Dean rolled his eyes as the nurse looked up and smiled. "Can I help you, dear?"

"I hope so. I'm here about toe John Doe that showed up here a couple days ago."

"Oh, did you want to see him?"

"If it's not too much trouble. But first I wanted to ask you a question."

"Fire away."

"Well…this is going to sound strange, but…is there anything…weird about him? I mean, besides the fact that the guy has no identity?"

_Oh, real subtle, Sammy,_ Dean thought, thinking once again that there was something…wrong…with his brother. Well, okay, not _wrong_, exactly. Just—off. Something slightly off-center about him, his conversation, his work…everything.

It was definitely a thought to get back to.

The nurse frowned momentarily, then said, "Well, he was very polite. He was real confused and scared, obviously, but he was still polite. And…" She hesitated. "Okay, this part isn't classified, but it isn't exactly widely known information, either…"

"What?"

"Well…he has no sign of any kind of injury at all. No evidence of _anything_ that could cause amnesia. The police are thinking maybe it's some kind of post-traumatic stress—sometimes traumatized people develop selective memory. Sometimes it's temporary, sometimes it's not. But this case is…different. His memory loss is _complete_—he doesn't even know his name. I had to explain to him what state he was in and which side of the continent we were on."

Sam glanced at his brother, his eyes clearly saying, _Told ya so._

In response, Dean's eyes told Sam to go do something fairly colorful.

"Can we see him now?" Sam asked, and the nurse smiled and led them to the room.

Dean ended up being the first one to go in, and Sam was about to follow when he came out again, muttering and waving his hands, his face a peculiar mix of annoyance, surprise, and an edge of panic. "I'm going to get coffee," he snapped at Sam as he stalked past. You can take this."

Sam watched him go, baffled. Then, afire with curiosity about what could have elicited such a response from the practically-unshakable Dean Winchester, he poked his head into the room.

The man on the bed looked over at him. "Oh, hello," he greeted Sam with a smile. "Do you happen to know where that other fellow went? He left kind of suddenly and he didn't look very good…"

Sam stared at him for a moment, then closed his eyes slowly and sighed inwardly.

_This could get very complicated…_

* * *

_Author's Note: I think I might be the first person in the world to write a two-part prologue. But that's really the only thing I can think to call this—it's just so _short. _But now we're getting into the actual story, so the chapters will be longer and more involved—and there will be much more plot. _

_Speaking of which, sorry about this whole plotless beginning thing—I know it's probably making any existent readers impatient and irritated, but it really is necessary. I had very distinct views of where I wanted these first two installments to begin and end. Now I've accomplished my goals and I can go back to winging it._

_But let me just clear something up right here and now: I really have no idea what hospital policy is on John Does. I don't know if you can check them out if you can ID them, or if there's a ton of red tape to work around. So please excuse any discrepancies, if you would._


	3. Meeting JJ

Chapter 1

"No, his name is Jemmy J Adams," Sam explained patiently to the bewildered nurse.

"What an unusual name."

"Yeah, I guess it is."

"And where did you say he was from?"

"He's a cop in New York City. My brother and I met him when we went there last summer."

The nurse didn't act like she doubted him, but she did seem confused—and why now? Sam certainly didn't understand what was happening here any more than she did.

"Then how on Earth did he end up _here?"_ the nurse was asking. "New York is three thousand miles from here!"

"I know that," Sam replied. "And we need to get him back there—his friends are probably worried to death."

The nurse nodded with a kindly smile. "I'll page his doctor. Why don't you go try to explain some of this to Mr. Adams?"

"I will. Oh, and if you see my brother, would you tell him I said to get back here?"

"Sure thing."

"Thanks," Sam called after her, already heading for JJ's room.

The boyish, usually-energetic young man looked just the slightest bit irritated when he got there, and the reason for it was made plain when he asked, "Why does everyone keep running away from me?! Aren't _I_ supposed to be the one who's freaking out?!"

Sam smiled encouragingly at him, suddenly seeing that he was actually much more unnerved by this than he appeared. "I'm sorry," he said sincerely. "I just needed to talk to your nurse. Turns out that there _are_ a couple of people in this state who know you, and you're looking at one of them. I'm Sam."

"…You know me?" Sam nodded. "Oh. Well, then, would you mind telling me my name, please?"

Sam chuckled—apparently this man was still a _little_ quirky, at least. "It's Jemmy J Adams, but most everyone who knows you calls you JJ. You're a cop in the NYPD. New York Police Department," he added, remembering what he'd been told about JJ's confused state of mind.

"That's on the other side of the country, right?"

"Yeah. I have no idea how you got _here_, but we need to get you back. Hopefully, the people there can help you remember. We don't know each other very well, see," he explained. "Not that you're not…friendly…or anything—you are, believe me. We just weren't in town long enough to really get to know you."

JJ nodded at that. "Well, can you tell me a little more about myself?"

Sam was about to answer when JJ's doctor came into the room, followed by Dean, and he mouthed, "Later" before standing up to greet the man.

"Hi. I'm Sam," he said, reaching out to shake the doc's hand. "Nice of you to join us, Dean," he added over the man's shoulder.

The doctor chuckled as Dean glared. "I'm Dr. Hamil. So I understand you know our mysterious man here," he said, smiling kindly at JJ. Sam nodded again. "That's a relief—we were beginning to wonder if you'd fallen out of the sky, young man."

"My name is JJ," JJ responded. "Sam told me."

"Ah. Well, that's a good thing to know," Dr. Hamil grinned, but then frowned a little. "But I'm sorry to tell you that I can only release JJ here into the custody of family."

"Yeah, I knew that," Sam replied smoothly, and Dean looked surprised. "But you can also release him to the police."

"Well…yes…"

"Simple, then. JJ here works at the NYPD. All we need to do is get his partner out here, right?"

Dr. Hamil thought about it a moment, then nodded. "I suppose that will work, if JJ consents."

JJ shrugged, his polite streak showing a fine crack at last as he replied, "Hey, at this point I'd leave with a flying monkey named Bob, if it helped me get out of here."

XXX

Dean didn't grouch and grumble _too_ much over his assignment to go outside and call Ryo in New York. After all, it did get him away from JJ. He wouldn't have grumbled at all, but it was sort of a principle thing, since his little brother had been the one to ask.

Not that he didn't _like_ JJ or anything. He supposed he did, from a distance of ten to twenty feet. But the last time he'd seen JJ, the smaller man had been an uncontrollable ball of energy who jumped Dean every time they were in the same room. And now here was the calm polite guy with JJ's face who was plainly not JJ at all, and it was just…_creepy._

And it didn't help that he had no idea what had caused it, Dean brooded moodily as he leaned against the brick outer wall of the hospital and dialed. Dean liked to _know_ things, and even though his line of work did include a mystery pretty much every other day, he'd never been _quite_ this puzzled before…because seriously, what kind of monster attacks with _amnesia?_

It never even occurred to him that this might not be their kind of job—that it might be something completely natural, the result of some sort of trauma, something that Drake and Ryo and Dee could solve—in short, something he and Sam weren't needed for. It never occurred to him, and for one simple reason—Sam had a hunch.

So that was it. Sam had a hunch, and so they were staying.

"H'lo?"

The voice that came over the line sounded tired—exhausted, actually—and Dean decided to cut straight to the point.

"Hey, Ryo, it's Dean. Remember me?"

"Yeah, I remember you, but now really isn't the best time—"

"Oh, trust me, it really is. See, me and Sam found something of yours. Bouncy, nutty, wanted for public indecency in, like, every state on the map?"

He heard Ryo's breath catch before his somewhat choked voice said, "Oh, thank God. Is he okay?"

"Well…ah…that sort of depends on your definition of 'okay.'"

"What? What's wrong with him?!"

"There's nothing physically wrong with him, but…uh…well, he sort of has no idea who he is."

"…You're not serious," Ryo said slowly.

"'Fraid so. He's got amnesia—a _lot_ of amnesia. He's forgotten everything from his name to the names of the states."

"What…but…I…_how?"_

Dean shrugged even though Ryo couldn't see him. "Not a clue. That's why me and Sam should probably stick with him. Problem is, they won't release him to us because we're not family or cops."

"At least not today, eh?" Ryo asked rhetorically, chuckling weakly.

"If you want to look at it that way, sure. Anyways, we need you guys to get here as fast as you can. Once we spring him and get him back to New York we can start trying to get to the bottom if this."

"Wait, what do you mean, _back_ to New York? Where are you?"

Dean hesitated. "This is the part you're not gonna like."

"Yeah, 'cause this has been a really happy conversation so far. _Where are you?"_

XXX

**New York City**

"He's _where?"_

Ryo ran a tired hand over his face and repeated, "Palo Alto. That's in California."

"How the hell did he get there?" Dee asked, looking a little wild-eyed.

"I have no idea, but then again, Dean and Sam were the ones who found him, so draw your own conclusions."

Dee groaned. "Aw, man…"

"Yeah."

Dee sighed. "Okay. Guess we'd better go down to the precinct and get Drake. He shouldn't hear this over the phone."

XXX

Drake had developed the rather uncleanly habit of biting his nails since JJ had gone missing. It seemed like his hands had been too nervous all the time and Drake would spend all his time just trying to find _something_ to do with them.

Unfortunately there was only so much paperwork to be done, and he'd been unceremoniously banned from fieldwork as a result of the panic that seemed to seize him at odd moments. So once he'd finished Dee's paperwork, and Ryo's, and Marty's, and Ted's, and finally Rose's—pretty much every single form in the stacks that had been accumulating for months in every tray on every desk in the 27th precinct—the nail-biting habit was born.

He was at it again when Dee and Ryo came into his and JJ's tiny office. The place had been cluttered once, but the mess had not survived the surgical cleaning of every office in the building that Drake had performed somewhere between the form-writing and the nail-biting. He sat at the desk, one hand at his lips while the other danced on the metal top in front of him.

"Hey," he said, and the exhaustion in his voice was a perfect contrast to the restlessness of his hands.

Ryo smiled softly and went to gently pull Drake's hand away from his mouth. "Drake, have you been here all night again?"

"Yeah," Drake replied candidly. "I wanted to be here…in case. It was okay—I slept on the couch a little." His hand went back to his mouth and Ryo pulled it down again, still gentle. Drake sighed and asked, "Do you have any paperwork for me?"

"Nope," Dee said cheerfully. "But we do have some news."

Drake's whole body gave an odd little jerk, and in his dead eyes sparked a little hope. "You found him?" he asked in a hushed voice, as if loud words would somehow frighten the knowledge away.

"Well, not _us_…exactly," Dee admitted. "But we'll get to that later. Right now we have to get to the airport."

"Airport? Why?"

"To go get JJ," Ryo explained. "He somehow ended up in—"

But Drake was already running out the door.

"Uh…okay…" Dee said, following him. "We could…do it that way, I guess…"

XXX

**Back in Palo Alto**

Sam and JJ were deep in conversation when Dean returned to the room, but Sam looked up the second he got to the door, sensing him immediately. He said something to JJ, and then got up and walked out into the hall to join his brother.

"I called Ryo. He's gonna bring Drake here today—well, either him or Dee, whichever can get away. They're catching the next flight out." He paused for a moment, then said, "So…have you explained to him about…"

Sam shrugged. "I'm getting to it. We're still working up to it. Actually, I'd better get back in there. Why don't you…go somewhere? I know you don't really want to stick around here until they get here, and I don't particularly want to go out _there_."

"You sure?"

Sam nodded. "You can pick me up later."

"'Kay. Thanks. Call me when they get here."

"Will do."

JJ was waiting patiently for Sam when he got back. "So tell me more about me," he said as Sam pulled up a chair.

Sam chuckled. "Well, I really don't know all that much."

"You know more than I do at this point."

"True. Well, let's see…" Sam said, searching his fairly limited memories of JJ last time they'd met. "You talk a lot. More than anyone I've ever met, actually. You can't seem to stand any sort of silence for more than a minute or two, and you don't really seem to care if anyone's listening."

"Wow. I sound…obnoxious," JJ said, and Sam laughed.

"Well, people do sometimes seem irritated with you, I'm not gonna lie. But you also have a lot of friends who would do anything for you, and your partner on the force thinks the world of you."

JJ smiled. "Oh. That's good." He paused for a moment, then shrugged and said, "Whatever, I'll ask. Am I…seeing anyone?"

Sam coughed. "Well, uh, actually I was gonna tell you about that. You're living with your partner on the force. That's who I called to fly out here and get you. It seems to be a pretty serious relationship."

JJ was grinning now. "Cool. What's her name?"

"_His_ name is JJ," Sam said, rather pointedly.

JJ was still for a moment. Then, suddenly, he looked down at himself, studying his hands, his arms, his stomach—most of his body, actually. "Okay, just making sure," he said upon finishing his expression. "So I'm—"

"Yes," Sam replied, secretly wondering if JJ even knew what that really meant.

As if sensing the thought, JJ suddenly gave a wry smile. "Sam, I'm confused, but I still know how the world works. At least a little. Enough to know people aren't very open to that idea. But my friends….they accept it, right?"

Sam shrugged. "Well, your two closest friends are together, too, so I'd say so." At JJ's questioning look, he went on to tell him about the two cops. "Their names are Ryo MacLean and Dee Laytner, and they work with you. Dee is one of those people I told you about who pretends to be annoyed with you, but really he'd probably kill for you, and if you knew what he was like you'd understand the significance of that. Ryo is a lot nicer to you, but then again, Ryo is nice to _everyone_. Anyways, one of them will probably come with Drake to get you."

JJ's expression became a little wistful, and his next words were oddly heartbreaking.

"I'd like to meet them."

XXX

**Six Hours Later**

**Palo Alto Airport**

Drake chewed on his nails for most of the plane ride, despite Ryo's best efforts, and by the time they got off at the airport he'd worn them down to stubs and was gnawing at skin—which was just gross, it must be admitted.

If it was at all possible, knowing where JJ was and that he was alive and at least physically well had actually made Drake _more_ nervous and jittery than before. By the time they got off the plane he could barely be contained, and Ryo and Dee found themselves half-jogging to keep up with his quick steps.

Dee decided that maybe _he'd_ better drive, since Drake was far more likely to kill them than to get them to their destination—a fact that was whispered sidelong to Ryo when Drake wasn't listening.

Luckily, they'd already called Dean, so there was no need to make Drake fly apart completely while waiting for directions. Even more fortunately, the hospital was close enough that with Dee at the wheel, they were there in ten minutes and inquiring at the desk in approximately twelve.

"Drake…wait," Ryo said hesitantly, reaching out to catch his friend's arm as the other man started toward JJ's room.

Drake stopped and looked impatiently at him. "What?"

"I'm sorry. I just…I thought I should warn you. I know I told you that JJ has no memory, but I want to make sure you really get it. He won't be…the way you remember him, and he doesn't remember us at all. _Any _of us. I just…want you to be prepared, is all."

"I know," Drake said quietly, and he smiled even though he looked pained. "But I need to see him anyway."

"Well, _obviously_," Dee snorted. "We certainly weren't trying to keep you _away_ from him. What the hell do you take us for? Jeez…" Still grumbling, he led the way to JJ's room.

They heard sounds of quiet laughter from outside the door, and despite himself Drake stopped to listen.

"…So now he basically avoids you whenever he can, and whenever you're in the same room he tries really hard—and _really_ obviously—to keep ten or twenty feet between you at all times."

The voice was deep and slow, quiet and thoughtful, but the one that replied was different as night from day.

"My God, I'm _horrible!"_

And then the person laughed loudly, and Drake's resolve crumbled.

XXX

Sam was telling JJ more about himself when Drake burst in, wild-eyed and frantic. JJ yelped a little, and Sam had to commend him for not climbing right under the bed, because Drake just looked…insane. He obviously hadn't slept in days, and it would seem that he had been neglecting to care for himself lately. He was clearly exhausted.

But his eyes lit up like the rising sun the moment he laid eyes on JJ, and suddenly all that didn't seem to matter a lick.

There was more movement in the doorway, and Sam nodded in greeting as Ryo and Dee joined the crowd in the room.

"Sorry," Ryo said, mostly to JJ.

"Yeah, we tried to keep him leashed, but…" Dee shrugged, then grinned as Ryo elbowed him in the ribs. "What? I haven't had the nightmare around for a month. There was a vacuum."

"Subtle," Ryo muttered, then repeated, "I'm sorry."

Drake was still staring at JJ, only not in addition to his rumpled appearance, he was shaking like a leaf in the wind and his eyes seemed a little wet.

JJ smiled kindly. "You must be Drake," he said, his voice oddly sympathetic. "Sam told me all about you."

"Sam…? Oh…hello…" Drake said absently, without taking his eyes from the man on the bed.

JJ was still smiling. "You definitely look a lot worse than me right now. Are you sure _you_ don't need to be in here?"

"I don't know…maybe…" Now Drake looked puzzled, as if he didn't quite know where he was or what was going on.

Sam knew that look, had seen it before, and so he saw it coming before anyone else did. He was able to brace Drake as the other man started to sag and get him safely into a chair next to the bed.

Once he was safely sitting down, Drake just sort of seemed to fall apart. Sam, Ryo, Dee, and even JJ—who had no real idea of who this man was and would have been completely justified in being rather put off—watched with pity as he brought one shaking hand up to cover his face. He then sat so still he seemed to be a statue, except for the slight quaking of his shoulders that told clearly of crying.

Then, suddenly, JJ did something very surprising. He reached out, put a hand on Drake's back, and began to move it in slow, soothing circles. He looked a little unnerved, but more than that, he looked understanding.

Drake didn't really react to the gentle touch, except to let himself go a little bit more, to allow the tears to come. But his whole body leaned unconsciously back into JJ's hand, and for now that would have to be enough.

Sam, watching the scene unfold, started a bit when a hand came down on his shoulder. He turned, nodded at Ryo's silent gesture, and followed him and Dee out of the room.

In the hallway Dee leaned against the wall and sighed heavily, his hand going to his pocket before Ryo pointed out the "No Smoking" sign.

"Damn," the black-haired cop muttered, and he wasn't just talking about the nicotine ban. "I think this is the only time in my entire life that I've ever been in the same room with him without the words 'stud' or 'sexy' or 'psychopath' being thrown around."

"He's…different, all right," Ryo agreed, standing a little closer to his partner than was strictly necessary, though his timidity didn't allow him to come in contact. "When did you find him?"

"Me and Dean came here this morning. We'd been looking for jobs and when I heard about a John Doe turning up with no memory or injury I got curious. We had no idea it was JJ—actually, Dean didn't know why we were here at all."

"Where is he, anyway?" Dee asked, looking around as if expecting the question to produce what Ryo and Sam jokingly referred to as his counterpart.

Sam shrugged. "He can never stay in one place for long. I told him I had a handle on things here and he took off. He probably didn't go far, though—told me to call when you got here. I should probably do that, actually…"

Ryo rolled his eyes fondly as Sam went for his phone. "He's more like you than he seems at first, I guess. Still, you and _Dean_…"

"Shut up, Ryo, or I'll have to take you down," Dee growled.

"Why, Dee," Ryo said, all wide-eyed innocence. "What a shocking thing to suggest."

"I can go further."

"Can't take gritty reality?"

The two of them were still bickering lovingly when Sam returned with a murmur of, "He's on his way." He glanced in the direction of JJ's room, from which no sound could be heard. "Think we should get back in there?"

Ryo shook his head, his eyes suddenly shadowed. "Give them a few minutes. Drake…needs this."

Sam nodded, leaning against the wall with his hands in his pockets in an unconscious imitation of his brother. "He hasn't been doing well, has he?"

Ryo shook his head sadly. "This whole thing has been making him crazy. He's hardly slept—just a couple hours a night in his and JJ's office. He kept saying he wanted to be there the second any news came in. And he's been really nervous and jumpy. He even got banned from fieldwork and had to find something else to occupy his time.

"Yeah, _that_ was nice," Dee added, his voice laced with sarcasm. "I mean, I hate paperwork as much as the next guy, but it's still a little creepy to find out that someone broke into the office just to finish all of it."

"Dee…" Ryo said.

"He cleaned the office, Ryo," Dee replied, sounding extremely offended. "He put everything where it's supposed to be! How am I supposed to get any work done if I can't _find_ anything!"

Ryo stared at him, and then suddenly his face showed comprehension and his mouth twitched at the corners. Then he chuckled and said, "Oh, Dee, I do love you."

And then Dee grinned, and Ryo blushed furiously, and Sam felt a surge of compassion for him and changed the subject.

"So how did you both get away? I thought Drake would be alone, or at least with only one of you."

Dee shrugged. "Chief's goin' soft, I guess. He gave both of us a couple days off to come here, get JJ, and fly back."

"What about that Commissioner guy? The one who creeps everyone out?"

Dee looked smug at that. 'Well, the Chief doesn't give orders often nowadays, but when he does that's it. Rose had no say in the matter."

"Ah," Sam said noncommittally. He hesitated, then decided to broach the subject while he had the opportunity. "Listen, guys, there's something you should know about JJ's condition."

He looked around to make sure no one was within earshot, glimpsed Dean, and waved a greeting as he continued.

"I don't think it's…entirely natural."

They both stared at him for a moment before Ryo asked slowly, "Well, what do you think happened?"

"We don't know. That's the problem," Dean answered, coming up behind Sam and holding out a hand for first Ryo and then Dee to shake. "Hey, guys, good to see ya."

"Wish I could say the same, but as I remember, nothing good tends to follow you two around," Dee replied, then grunted when Ryo elbowed him. "Well, it's true…" he muttered, rubbing his ribs when an offended air.

"So, what, you guys want to come back to New York with us?" Ryo asked.

"Now 'want to'," Dee corrected. "_Have_ to. I don't like your city—actually, I hate it—and I'd rather not go there at all, but these things can mean serious trouble, and Sam and me may be the only ones able to help."

Ryo sighed. "Great. Rose is gonna kill us."

Dee grinned at that. "Hey. Maybe they have their uses after all." Then he quickly and pragmatically covered his sides.

"So what time're you flying back?" Sam asked, more to distract Ryo from pummeling his boyfriend than anything else.

"Little after midnight. But aren't you flying with us?"

Dean rolled his eyes. "You're funny."

"He has a problem with planes," Sam explained at Ryo's confused look.

Dean glared at him, grabbed his arm and hissed, "Come on, _Sammy,_ before you do anymore damage." Then he led Sam off while adding over his shoulder to Dee and Ryo, "We'll meet you guys in New York in two days so we can start figuring this out."

* * *

_Author's Note: So there you have it. My first actual chapter for this story. I have no idea when the next one will come out—finals time, ya know—but it shouldn't be more than a week or two._

_So…_

_Questions? Comments? Issues? Send 'em all in, if you please! _


	4. I've Been Travelin'

Chapter 2

Ryo, Dee and Drake spent the next hours with JJ. Sam and Dean were with them, but they stood back far enough to give at least the illusion of privacy, having their own conversation and tossing around what few ideas they could come up with without the benefit of an Internet connection.

For the most part, JJ himself just sat there and listened to the babble. His hand was now clasped—with slightly hesitant permission—in Drake's larger one, and though he looked just slightly uncomfortable, he didn't try to free himself. And he _did_ look genuinely relieved to have the group at his side and so obviously glad to have him back.

Every once in a while, though, his eyes would sweep the room until they found Sam, and only when he was certain that the younger Winchester was still there would his gaze return to the three around him.

Dean mocked him about that, because that was what Dean did. Sam said "Bite me" because that was what Sam did.

But secretly, Sam was a little worried about what those glances implied. He did _not_ want JJ coming to rely on him—not because he cared about being mocked, but because there was no way it could be _good_ for JJ to become attached to him. He didn't really know anything at all about the guy, and right now that was the last thing JJ needed. Right now, he needed to be around people who had actual _memories_ of him.

But of course Sam couldn't very well _say_ any of that to him.

And so the situation continued to suck.

XXX

They hung around the hospital until a little after visiting hours (turns out a gay man can charm a pretty nurse with the best of 'em, oddly enough) but along about ten even Dee's seemingly endless roguish charm began to wear off and phrases like "late" and "time's up" and "security" began to be thrown around.

JJ seemed to get increasingly fidgety the closer they got to springing him, until he was practically jumping up and down as Drake filled out the release forms. It was impossible to say whether this twitchiness sprang from nerves or excitement, but it was probably both—and either emotion would certainly have been reasonable under the circumstances. After a while, though, JJ seemed to get tired of being nervous and actually struck up his first one-on-one conversation with Drake.

"So you and I…Sam told me we live together?" he asked.

Drake looked up from the clipboard he was holding and nodded. "Yeah. you were my work partner long before you were…more than that…and you moved in with me about six months ago." He jotted something on a form, then looked up suddenly and said, "But, hey, if you think that's gonna be uncomfortable for you, we can always put you up in a motel or something."

JJ looked saddened by the question, and maybe even a little lost. "I…I don't know," he whispered.

Drake looked at him for a moment, and the flash of hurt was there and gone so quickly that Sam wondered if he'd maybe imagined it. Then the sandy-haired cop leaned over and placed a hand over JJ's, squeezing gently. "It's okay. We'll just see, all right?"

JJ smiled wanly and nodded, and Drake took his hand away before things became uncomfortable again, finishing off the forms with an exaggerated flourish.

"And you, my friend, are officially a free man," he said with a grin. "I'll just give these over and then we can get you out of here, 'kay?"

JJ nodded, and Drake favored him with another smile as he got up and left the room.

Sam watched him go, then turned his attention back to the conversation Dean, Dee and Ryo were engaged in.

"Okay, so me and Sam will meet you guys in New York in three days," Dean was saying. "We'll start digging on the road. Hopefully we'll have something more solid next time we see you."

Sam was probably the only one who heard the silent _"So I can get out of your city as fast as possible."_

Dee rolled his eyes. "I still think you should just come with us. You're making a bigger deal out of flying than you need to."

"Yeah, well you try getting on a plane knowing for a fact that there's a demonically possessed passenger on board that's going to crash the thing exactly forty minutes into the flight, and then we'll talk," Dean said shortly.

Dee looked a little uneasy at that, but the words seemed to remind Ryo of something, and he lowered his voice as he spoke to the brothers.

"Speaking of, do you think we should tell him? About your suspicions on this?"

Sam shook his head immediately. "Nah, I don't think so. I mean, you guys didn't say anything to anyone the first time, right?"

"Yeah…"

"So he didn't know the truth about the world _before_, and neither does Drake. And they've already got enough on their plates, anyway, without us freaking the out with ghost stories. It'll be easier just to keep it between us. At least, until we figure out what's going on."

Dee shrugged. "Whatever you say."

Sam couldn't help but smile at his disgruntled tone. "Look, man, I'm sorry, I know you don't like thinking about this stuff. And to tell you the truth, I wish there were another explanation, too. But…" He shrugged helplessly, and let that speak for him.

"So we're just gonna keep JJ in the dark?" Dee asked.

Sam shrugged. "I think it's for the best…for now, at least."

Dee thought about it a moment, then asked, "Can I have amnesia, too?"

Ryo hit him.

XXX

**Super 8 Motel**

**12:45 AM**

"Sam, you're not seriously starting with the geekiness _now_," Dean said, staring as Sam pulled out his laptop and set it on the table.

"Why not?" Sam asked, looking genuinely confused.

Dean quirked an eyebrow. "Dude, it's one in the morning and you've been up since six. Do you _ever_ sleep?"

"Sure," Sam replied, sitting down in front of the computer. "But this is the first high-speed connection I've gotten in a while. I just want to take advantage of it for a while."

Dean stared at him for a moment, then shook his head and muttered, "Whatever" as he threw himself down on the bed closest to the door. "But if I wake up at four and you're still sitting there, I'm confiscating that thing."

"Okay."

"I'm serious, Sammy. Don't stay up all night."

"It's Sam," Sam said absently, already starting to tune him out.

XXX

Dean could practically see the tension lift from Sam as they drove across the Palo Alto county line the next morning, and he sighed inwardly. Apparently this place still held the bad memories for Sam that they had a year ago, and being here hadn't gotten any easier for him. And yet, every force in the entire universe seemed intent on drawing them back here.

And what _about_ that, anyway? Why did _everything_ happen in or around Stanford? It was like the entire place was a boiling pot of paranormal energy, even though Dean knew for a fact that the nearest node was in Sunnydale, California, some few hundred miles south. This place _hurt_ Sam, and he couldn't stay away from it.

"Well, this time we _will_ stay away for a while…"

"You say something?" Sam asked, glancing up from the book he was reading to look over at him.

Dean momentarily considered repeating his muttered words, then shrugged and reached out to switch on the radio.

"Never mind," he murmured, and the music of Black Sabbath blasted from the speakers.

XXX

**Meanwhile, in New York**

By the time their plane touched down at five in the morning, Ryo, Dee, Drake and JJ were little more than mindless zombies wandering around the airport, and Ryo, for one, had thanked God several times that they didn't have to worry about driving. They could just pile into a taxi and let the driver take it from there.

The cab dropped Drake and JJ first, their building being closest to the airport, and it was as he was climbing out of the cab that Drake's body decided to quit. Dee ended up half-carrying him to the apartment, while Ryo and JJ followed behind, one looking worried and the other confused.

"What's wrong with him?" JJ asked Ryo quietly as they entered the apartment and Dee headed for the bedroom.

"He's just tired," Ryo whispered back. "He's been up for days."

JJ didn't seem to know what to say to that.

"Nuh-uh…I'm sleepin' on the couch…" Drake muttered as he noticed where they were going, slurring his words. "JJ'll take the bed…"

"Shut up," Dee replied. "You're dead on your feet because you're stupid and you need to get some serious sleep." As he said it, he shot a look over his shoulder that even JJ, in his confused state, recognized as pleading.

Then Ryo nudged him and muttered, "Tell him."

"What…?"

"He'll listen to you," Ryo whispered. "Just tell him we're right. Please?"

JJ looked dubious, but he did as he was asked and told Drake he was fine on the couch, and Drake stopped arguing fairly quickly.

Fifteen minutes later, Ryo and Dee left Drake and JJ lying in separate beds in separate rooms, and that just seemed so _wrong_, in its way.

_But we'll make it right. We will…we have to…_

XXX

Ryo gave a long, slow sigh and leaned his forehead against the door he'd just locked, closing his eyes. He smiled tiredly as a pair of arms slid around his waist and tightened.

"You all right?" Dee asked quietly, running a hand lightly up his side.

Ryo leaned against him. "Tired…"

Dee chuckled and pressed a kiss to the base of his neck. "I know the feeling. Whaddya say we—"

"Ryo? Dee? You guys home?" a voice suddenly called from the next room, a second before Dee's arch-nemesis appeared in the doorway.

Ryo sighed and reluctantly freed himself from Dee's embrace so that he could turn to face his son. "What are you doing up, Bikky?"

Bikky shrugged. "Ya kinda woke me when you came in. You get JJ back?"

"Yeah. He's….okay, I guess, but…it's complicated. Listen, Biks, can we talk about this in the morning? It's been a long day."

Bikky studied him for a minute, then muttered, "All right, all right, I'm goin' back to bed," and retreated to his room again, still grumbling.

"Do you feel…weird right now?" Dee asked as he and Ryo went to their own room.

Ryo tumbled facedown onto the bed, fully clothed, hugging a pillow to his chest. The mattress dipped a little as Dee joined him, and then the arms were encircling him again.

"Yeah, I do," he murmured. "We haven't done anything but look for him in a month, and now we have him back and it's _still_ not over." He was quiet for a minute, then suddenly blurted, "It's like I don't even know him."

Dee sighed heavily. "I know. And that's the problem—we _don't_ know him. He's not JJ…not right now."

"But he will be," Ryo said, suddenly propping himself on one elbow to look down at Dee. "Sam and Dean will come, and we'll figure this out, and we'll make him be JJ again. Right?"

Dee smiled comfortingly at him and pulled him down into a kiss.

"Yeah," he whispered against Ryo's lips. "We'll make him be JJ again."

XXX

**Middle of Nowhere, Iowa**

**Sometime Later**

Sam was stretched out on his bed at the motel, flipping through research books and watching Dean throw the last of his stuff in his bag, when someone in New York finally contacted them, via Sam's cell.

He dug it out of his pocket with his eyes still on the page and flipped it open. "Hello?"

"Sam?"

"Oh, hi, Ryo. You guys get back okay?"

"Obviously. Where are you?"

"Somewhere in Iowa, I think. With Dean behind the wheel we should be there sometime tonight. How's it going over there? How's JJ?"

Ryo's sigh echoed over the line. "I don't really know. I haven't seen him or Drake yet this morning. Mostly I've just been making a lot of calls."

"Huh? Like who?" Sam asked, more and more of his attention coming to focus on the phone call.

"Mother Maria, for one. Diana Spacey, a friend of ours in the LAPD. She's already decided to fly out. She's also bringing a friend of hers who's crashing at her place—Nikki or something, I think. Commissioner Rose—I told him it was you two who found him, and that you're coming here, and he is _pissed_. I'd stay away from him when you're here, if I were you."

"Like you even had to warn us. That guy creeps me out."

Ryo chuckled a little. "He seems to have that affect on just about everybody. So anyways, I should probably get down to the precinct pretty soon, but I was wondering if you'd found anything yet. I mean, I know you've only been looking since last night, but—"

"Yeah, I get it. But no, I haven't really got any leads yet. About all I _have_ managed to do is rule out demonic possession, and that one was kind of obvious. I'm looking into spirits right now, but basically all I'm finding is an entirely new level of frustration."

"Oh. Well, it _has_ only been a couple of days," Ryo reminded him.

"Yeah…" Sam said absently. "Yeah, that's true…"

"Okay, well, I should probably go, then. Just wanted to check in."

"'Kay. Later."

"Bye."

XXX

**New York City**

**That Afternoon**

JJ looked very nervous as Drake led him through the quiet precinct toward the office they shared. His eyes kept darting back and forth like he expected people to start streaming in a jumping him at any moment. But the place was quiet, and Drake, at least, knew that it would stay that way, considering the fact that there were only six people working on their floor anyway.

"Go on, sit down," Drake said as he closed the door behind them. "Want some coffee?"

JJ shook his head mutely and gingerly sat down on the couch, like he expected the whole thing to spontaneously combust with no warning.

"Well, I'm gonna have some coffee," Drake said, sighing inwardly as he suited action to words.

He'd definitely noticed an increase in JJ's jumpiness since they woke up this morning, but he didn't have a clue as to why. JJ seemed constantly on edge today, all his muscles coiled and tight, as if his body was expecting something his mind could not predict. And another thing—every once in a while, his hand would come up and his fingers would knead lightly into his forehead. But apparently he didn't realize he was doing it, because when Drake asked him if he wanted an aspirin he only looked puzzled.

Drake took a pull from the mug he'd just filled, his back to JJ. He had a faint glimmer of hope that the caffeine would do _something_ to relieve the fatigue that had come over him the day JJ disappeared, and hadn't departed even with his partner's return. He'd had this thought the whole time JJ had been missing—this certainty that once he _found_ his love, everything would just magically go back to normal.

A foolish hope, a stupid dream, and now JJ was back but not _there_, and it was time to wake up.

Drake turned back to his partner in time to see his eyes sweep the room, and sighed, this time aloud.

"It's okay, JJ," he said patiently. "Ryo and Dee will be here soon, and our Commissioner _might_ decide to turn up, but no one else is here. No one will bother us if you don't want them to—"

Before he could finish his reassurances, the door slammed open hard enough to bounce off the wall, and an angrily gleeful voice positively shattered the quiet.

"'BOUT DAMN _TIME_ YA POPPED OUTTA YER HOLE AGAIN, YA LITTLE WEASEL!"

"…Well, okay, so I lied. Diana most certainly _will_ bother us."

XXX

**That Evening**

"Ya know, I don't see why we had to come tonight," Dean grumbled as he swung into an empty parking space outside the 27th Precinct.

Sam shrugged. "Ryo wanted to meet us when we got here."

"But _why_, though? I mean, what's the difference between tonight and tomorrow morning?"

"I dunno, but it's still early anyway, so why does it even matter?"

"It just does, all right?"

Sam did try very hard to be annoyed at his brother's attitude, just because he felt he _should_ be, but in truth he'd been expecting it. Dean always got this way in big cities—he had ever since that fateful trip to Manhattan, when they'd met the homeless boy Morgan and his sister Sari—and Sam, for one, thought the outlook completely justified.

So, rather than calling him on it, Sam simply ignored his grumblings and climbed out of the car, Dean following him reluctantly.

The inside of the building was graveyard-quiet, but Sam actually preferred it that way, and felt relieved as he followed the directions Ryo had given him the last time they'd talked to get to Drake's office.

There were voices murmuring inside the room, so Sam knocked and waited for permission before opening the door and looking in curiously.

There were actually a lot more people than he'd expected. Drake and JJ, of course, and Dee and Ryo were expected, as well. One of them would be the FBI agent Diana, and maybe the other was her friend?

But there was also one more.

And Sam recognized him instantly—knew him well, in fact…had images and memories of him burned into his brain that spanned only four years but seemed endless all the same.

_Just when I'd thought things couldn't get _more_ complicated…_

* * *

_Author's Note: Okay, so I had a helluva time with this chapter, which is why it took so long to come out, and why it's so unbelievably crappy. _

_Actually, I've had a helluva time writing anything lately. My skills seem to be slipping a bit, and I'm starting to run out of new story ideas. Plus, I have three summer jobs this year. So to sum it up, I'm not sure how often I'll be updating before the fall semester. That's not to say I'm going to stop writing completely, of course, 'cause it's still my second-favorite pastime. Things will probably just be a little slow during the summer._

_  
So anyways, back to business. I think I should probably apologize to anyone reading this. People who have read FAKE are probably fairly disappointed with my characterization of JJ. I know he's _completely_ OOC, but that's how it's _supposed_ to be, because technically, he _isn't_ JJ right now. So, sadly, it will probably be a while until we get our JJ back. I beg you not to withhold your feedback because of it!_

_Oh, and also, sorry to anyone who wanted Amnesia Boy to be either Dee or Ryo. I didn't want to go that route, so I didn't. There really is no deeper explanation._

_Okay, now that all that serious stuff is out of the way, we have arrived at the customary plea for SOME kind of response!_

…_Did that count, or should I say it again…?_

_Eh, couldn't hurt._

_REVIEW, PLEASE!!!!!_


	5. But I Don't Know Where I've Been

Chapter 3

Flashback

One Year and Six Months Ago

Palo Alto, California+

_Dean had been fidgeting from the moment they walked in the door. He kept tugging at his tie and pulling at the cuffs of his sleeves, and his left foot kept up a persistent tapping, whether he was sitting or standing._

_And his eyes never once left his younger brother._

_Sam was moving slowly through the crowd of mourners, shaking hands and talking softly and throwing that sweet, gentle smile around like a comfort object—which, actually, it probably he was. He looked strong, sure of himself—together. He'd actually been the one who helped Jessica's parents organize the funeral and this wake, and now he was also the one keeping things going._

_Dean had never been more proud of his brother than he was now, today._

_But he also knew him better than anyone else ever had, and he could see that Sam was getting tired. Getting ready to crumble._

_With a quiet sigh that asked yet again, _Why him?_ Dean got up and began fighting through the crowd, the size of which only attested to the fact that Jessica wasn't only loved by Sam. _

_The youngest Winchester tossed that smile his way as he walked up, that new sad, broken smile that made Dean _really_ want to hit something._

"_Hi, Dean."_

"_Hey," Dean said quietly, for his brother's ears only. "You should come sit down for a while." He didn't ask if Sam was okay, because that would have been ridiculous and might even have undone all Dean's hard work to strengthen Sam enough to get through this day._

"_Yeah," Sam replied, just as quietly. "Maybe. Where are you sitting?"_

"_Come on," Dean said, taking hold of his shoulder and steering him back the way he'd come._

"_But…wait, maybe I should keep making the rounds…" Sam said. "A lot of my friends are here and—"_

"_And they can find you just as easily when you're sitting still," Dean told him, firmly pushing him into a seat and dropping into the one next to him. He didn't stare, but every couple of seconds his eyes would stray to the side to glance at this stranger he still called his brother. Sam looked neither left nor right, but faced straight ahead, his whole form radiating misery._

_It was his change of expression that tipped Dean off, and he was able to match Sam's movements almost exactly as his younger brother stood up to greet the tall, dark-skinned man approaching them._

_Dean was rather surprised when the two met, not with a shake, but with the hug of two old friends. He was even more surprised that Sam seemed pretty comfortable with that hug. But then again, he also thought the guy _did_ look a little familiar._

"_Hey," Sam said once they'd released each other. "I don't think you guys ever got introduced. This is my brother Dean. Dean, this is Derek. He was my roommate for three years."_

_The name rang a bell, and Dean reached out to shake Derek's hand. "Good to meet you."_

"_Yeah. You, too." But then he turned back to Sam, and while Dean could tell he was in no way trying to be rude or hostile, it was plain that there was really only one person he wanted to talk to at this moment._

"_How are you feeling?" Sam asked his friend._

"_Like hell," Derek replied._

_Sam chuckled, and though it was brittle, it was also the first flash of humor he'd shown since the fire. "Me, too."_

_Derek smiled, his eyes passing over the room before he suddenly proclaimed, "God, she would have hated this."_

_Sam's eyes became as distant as his smile. "Yeah. Yeah, she would have."_

_Derek's tone took on a note of confession then. "Y'know, it's funny. I keep expecting her to come in here all fired up about all these people spending their Sunday crying over her. I keep thinking she's about to…I dunno, beat us up with the baby's breath, or something. And I keep thinking I'd never be happier to have her give me a black eye."_

"_With baby's breath?"_

"_Hey, if anyone could…" Derek shrugged, tears standing in his eyes. "I dunno. But I hope she gets over the whole betrayal of us throwing a wake and all, so she can be happy…wherever she is."_

_Dean didn't know what it was about the words, but they made him feel as if he was intruding on something very private, and he reached out and laid a hand on Sam's shoulder._

"_Hey, Sammy, I'm gonna go see about the food in this place, okay?"_

"_Oh…all right. I'll…be here," Sam said._

_Dean squeezed his shoulder gently and then turned away to begin winding his way toward the food table, though he'd never felt less hungry in his life._

_When he looked back, Sam and Derek were conversing earnestly, and for the first time since he'd lost Jess, Sam was really _talking

_And though it wasn't him who convinced Sam to open up at last, Dean was glad nonetheless, and unspeakably grateful to this young man he did not know._

End Flashback+

The Winchesters left Palo Alto as the sun came up the next morning, and that had been the last time Dean—and probably Sam, too, actually—had seen the man who played the role of best friend during Sam's college years.

Until now.

Because there was absolutely no doubt as to the identity of the person standing in the room with Dee, Ryo, JJ, Drake, and two strangers.

Wait, maybe make that one stranger, because maybe he knew that really familiar-looking girl standing next to Derek…he just needed a minute to work on it…

It was only then that he realized they'd all been standing there gawking at each other, and Sam seemed to become conscious of that at the same time, because right then his shock-soft voice echoed through the silent room.

"What the hell are you _doing_ here?"

His voice held a bite of anger that, while fairly understandable considering the awkwardness—and possible danger—of the situation, nevertheless surprised Dean.

Derek, though, grinned wide enough to break his teeth, still looking shell-shocked. "I have no idea, man. I think they were just about to tell me when you came in. But anyhow, it's not _my_ fault, so cut the frown and at least _pretend_ you're as happy to see me as I am to see you, eh?"

Sam stared at him for a couple more seconds. Then, as if some sort of test had been passed, he took a couple of steps and grabbed his friend in a rough hug.

Dean, meanwhile, had been standing there watching one of the two girls, trying to place her, and it was his own voice that reverberated next. "_Kaci_?"

XXX

Apparently Sam was not the only one who had no idea what his brother meant when he said the name "Kaci" in such a stunned voice. He definitely wasn't the only one staring at Dean as if he'd grown another head or…nine.

Then one of the women spoke up, sounding decidedly peeved. "Ryo, Dee, did you two bring another nut job into the precinct? 'Cause no offense, but I really don't think you _need_ another one of those."

"Yeah, Dean, what's with you?" Dee asked, sounding amused. "Stress of the job finally get to you?"

"Wha—_no­_, you ass! I'm just surprised to see—"

"Dean," Ryo cut in gently. "There's no one by that name here. That girl is Diana, and the other is Nikki. And…well, apparently you already know Derek, and don't think we won't get to that in a minute. But there's no Kaci."

Sam, his arm still clamped around Derek's shoulder, groaned inwardly and closed his eyes. As if all these problems weren't enough, now they had to deal with Dean's apparent mental instability, too?

Then the girl named Nikki spoke.

"Well. This would be absolutely humiliating if I cared one lick. Hi, Dean."

XXX

Fifteen minutes later, everyone was still very confused, but at least they were sitting down now.

"You told me your name was Kaci," Dean accused, though he probably would have sounded more threatening had he not been hunched over with his fact buried in his hands.

Nikki looked disgusted. "I'd been working undercover for a month and a half and I'd just done five tequila shots. I really did think that was my name. Besides, you weren't exactly forthcoming yourself."

Dean's head shot up at that, but Nikki was still talking.

"Gotta say, I never figured to see you darken my figurative doorway again. Didn't actually count on you remembering me at all. Then again, I _did_ kick your a—"

"Don't say it," Dean groaned. Back down his head went and he spoke from the safety of his arms. "Please don't say it."

"Can't take gritty reality?"

"Not at this moment," Dean said from his arms.

Sam, meanwhile, was tucked in a corner with Derek and Ryo.

"Okay, so wait. _You_ know _him_ from college," Ryo said, pointing from Sam to Derek.

"Yes," Sam replied. "Stanford. We roomed together three years."

"And _you_ introduced _him_ to his girlfriend," Ryo continued, this time pointing from Derek to Sam.

Derek's seemingly ever-cheery expression became a bit more shaded, and his voice dropped the way Sam's usually did when this particular subject came up. "Yeah. Pretty soon after he got there. She was…a close friend of mine."

Ryo looked as if he was trying to remember something.

"No, Ryo. I never told you about her," Sam said quietly. "Or that she…passed."

"Oh. I…I'm sorry," Ryo said awkwardly. "For both of you."

The three of them sat in silence for a moment, and then Derek asked, "So what are you even _doing_ here, Sam? I mean…this isn't exactly a great vacation spot. Do you have friends here?"

"…I asked you first," Sam said evasively.

Derek rolled his eyes. "Oh, so that's how you wanna play it. Well, fine. I actually came here with my girlfriend."

"Your…you have a _girlfriend_? I thought you were…celibate, or something."

Derek gave a long-suffering sigh. "Not by choice, my friend. Not by choice. She's actually the one giving your brother a coronary right now. She was staying with Diana when this whole thing happened, and when Diana decided to fly out here she came with. Then she decided for no apparent reason that since I was on break from grad school, _I_ should come. But I still haven't got a clue what's going on."

"Wha—?" Sam began, then cut himself off. _So many questions…_ "But she's so…"

"Scary? Yeah, I know. Goes with the whole FBI agent thing. That's why I love her. Or at least really, _really_ like her."

"But you're so…"

"Not scary? I know that, too."

"And do you plan to _survive_ this relationship?"

"Oh, don't worry, she'd lose her badge for opening fire on me."

Sam stared at him. "…That is unhealthy."

"Ya think?"

"I think."

Ryo broke in then. "Uh…are you absolutely _sure_ you two aren't…?" He turned red under Sam's steady, knowing gaze. "Ah…never mind. I'm just gonna…be over here now," he finished lamely, going to join Diana, Dee, Drake and JJ.

"God this is all too _complicated!"_ Diana was saying. "Can't you people even get _kidnapped_ in a normal manner?!"

JJ seemed to shrink into himself with each word, and by the time she finished he actually looked ashamed of himself. Drake's dagger-like glare was enough to make _Ryo_ quiver, and his hand moved toward JJ's shoulder before stopping and dropping reluctantly into his lap.

Diana sighed. "Look, I'm sorry, JJ. Really. It's just…this is so _weird_! I mean, you disappear without so much as a fingerprint, and then you pop up a month later without so much as a _name_?"

"Yeah, we know how it went, thanks," Drake said darkly.

"Well, have you seen any doctors? Maybe there's medicine or something…" Diana trailed off when she saw the looks being tossed her way. "No, that's…not the right thing to say, either." She sighed heavily. "Okay, you know what? I think I'll just get outta here. Nikki and I aren't doing any good here right now, and Derek…" She shrugged. "Well, Derek is Derek. He basically contributes humor and little else."

"No, you don't have to leave—" JJ protested, looking as if he just thought he _should_.

"No, honey, I should," she said, leaning over to peck his cheek. He blushed as she straightened and looked at the other three. "If you want I can call Berkley and brief him. Tell him as much as I know."

Dee smiled at her. "Thanks for the offer, but Ryo already did. He knows everything we do."

"Wow, I bet that's unbearable for you."

"You have no idea."

"I dated him."

"Okay, so maybe you have _some_ idea."

She grinned. "I knew you'd see it my way."

It took a bit of effort to haul Derek from his and Sam's corner, but in the end the two of them had made a plan to meet up the next day and Derek, Diana and Nikki were out the door, leaving Dean, Sam, Dee, Ryo, Drake and JJ alone.

"Well," Dean said into the silence. "That was weird."

"Which part?" Sam asked glumly. "The part where you met up with a chick you apparently went barhopping with, or the part where I met up with my best friend who really knows nothing about my life at all?"

"Or the part where I was _trying_ to explain what was going on to JJ and Drake while going on Ryo's glances and my own eavesdropping?" Dee piped up.

"Or what about the part where you all met up because of _me_?" JJ finished.

"…Yep, that's weird," Dean said after a moment of contemplation. "So anyways, did you tell us to come here to meet them, or…?"

Ryo was about to reply when a quiet groan distracted them all.

"JJ? You all right, babe?" Drake asked worriedly.

JJ let out another groan in reply, his hand reaching up to rest on his forehead. Then, suddenly, he threw his head back, his groan becoming louder. His hands clenched around the arm of the couch, and then his eyes went blank and he stared off into space.

Sam stared—he _knew_ that look.

_Oh, no…_

XXX

"_Okay, I'm _done_."_

_Drake dropped a stack of folders on his desk with a deep and satisfied sigh._

_Another voice echoed through the room, rising in a giggle. "See, told ya it wouldn't take long! Now come over here and relax, eh?"_

_Drake grinned slowly and pushed himself out of his chair, walking across the room and falling onto the office couch next to JJ. As soon as he was seated, JJ rolled into his lap and slid his arms around his neck. He leaned forward and kissed Drake, his whole body pressed against the blonde's._

_Drake kissed him back, melting against the cushions. "Mm…sailor, take me away," he murmured as they parted._

_JJ sat up, glaring down at him indignantly. "I'm not a sailor! I don't swear enough!"_

_Drake grinned again. "Oh, don't pout, babe. It's just a figure of speech." Then the grin suddenly became teasing. "Then again, it _is_ cute…" he said, leaning forward to capture JJ's lips again._

"_I love you," JJ said against his lips. "Really, really a lot."_

"_More than caffeine?"_

"_Mm-hmm."_

"_Sugar?"_

"_Yep."_

"_Jumping people?"_

_JJ smiled mischievously. "Well, who says one has nothing to do with the other?"_

"JJ!"

"_Oh, don't be a prude, Drake. Who's gonna know? The couch certainly isn't gonna tell anyone…"_

_More laughter, and then silence, and merciful, merciful darkness._

XXX

"JJ? _JJ!_ God, what's _wrong_ with him?" Drake demanded, his arm encircling JJ's shoulders.

"Trust me," Sam said, looking desperately sorry for JJ and maybe a little sick. "You really don't want to know."

JJ whimpered, his fingers curling into his hair and holding on while his other hand gripped the arm of the couch, and Drake could do nothing except hold him.

"JJ, please. Tell me what's happening," Drake pleaded.

And just as he said it, JJ's sobbing gasps ceased, and he sat absolutely still, his chest heaving as he tried to draw breath.

"JJ?" Drake asked hesitantly. "Are you all right?"

JJ slowly looked over at him, his face white.

"I...I don't know."

XXX

"Well," Dean said, closing the door behind him and leaning back against it. "That was an interesting evening."

"Which part?" Sam asked, sitting down on his bed.

"All of it," Dean replied, tossing his jacket over a chair and throwing himself onto his own bed with an exaggerated groan. He turned over and crossed his arms over his chest as he continued. "JJ's vision is probably somewhere near the top of the list, though."

"Oh, yeah, I wanted to ask you about that," Sam said, sitting up and crossing one leg in front of him, his arm draped over it. "What makes you think it was a vision? JJ said he thought they looked younger. What makes you think it was anything other than a random memory flash?"

"I just know. You've never seen anyone have a vision, but trust me, it's pretty easy to recognize. The way his eyes went blank…" He shrugged. "Just trust me on this."

"But…why would JJ have a vision of the _past? _I mean, what's the point?"

"I don't know, but he did," Dean insisted stubbornly.

"I believe you," Sam said absently. He was quiet for a moment, then shrugged and said, "Well, we'll figure it out. Hey, what was with that girl earlier? Who was she?"

Dean rolled his eyes. "No one. Just someone I had a drink with once."

"You got drunk with her?" Sam asked, looking as if he figured this would be a fairly interesting story to brighten a night that, so far, had pretty much sucked.

"Nah, we were both already drunk when she turned up."

"Dude, when did all this even happen?"

Dean debated for a moment whether or not to answer, then sighed and admitted, "About three months ago. After…well, you know."

Sam looked reflexively down at his right hand, flexing it and curling it into a fist. Yeah, he knew—didn't think he'd ever forget the pain of getting that hand back in working order. Then, suddenly, he looked back up at Dean.

"Wait, so was she the one you lost the bet to?"

Dean scowled wordlessly at him, and then took swift and deadly revenge.

"So what are you gonna do about Derek?"

Sam's face immediately went blank, and he moved to lean back against his pillows. "You fight dirty, Dean."

Surprisingly, Dean did feel a little guilty then, and his voice was less hard when he answered.

"Well, you have to tell him _something_, especially if he's sticking around. He's gonna want to know what you've been up to. And I think you need to know what you're going to tell him before he asks."

Sam paused once again before he said, "Speaking of which, we need to figure out what to tell Drake and—and Dee and Ryo, too. We got off tonight because Drake wanted to get JJ home, but tomorrow there're gonna be questions. Hell, from Diana and Nikki, too. That whole FBI thing could get damned inconvenient, 'specially if they happen to know Hendrickson." _Though if that's the case, we're screwed no matter what we say…_

They were silent for a long time, each thinking it over, before Dean asked, "Anything?"

"…Nope. Well, except…" Then Sam looked at his brother out of the corner of his eye, looking away again quickly, and let his very silence speak for him.

Dean groaned and threw an arm over his face. "I hate my life."

* * *

_Author's Note: Does ANYONE know how I can possibly see the movie _Ten Inch Hero_? I can't find it in any theaters and now I'm wondering if it's just going straight to DVD. If you know, can you PLEASE help me? I won't even bother you with a plea for reviews if you do! Thanks!_


	6. Friends and Flashes

Chapter 4

Sam woke up the next morning with the realization that he had no idea where to go next with this job.

He hadn't really thought about that the night before—hadn't _wanted_ to think about it, he knew now, any more than he wanted to think about Derek or FBI agents or explanations or issues or anything but work and mysteries and demons and monsters.

Only problem was, he _had_ no demon or monster. Plenty of work, plenty of mystery, but nothing more.

Sam slipped out from under the covers with a groan and glanced at Dean, still sound asleep and looking like the blowing up of the entire room with gunpowder wouldn't wake him. No surprise there—Dean hardly ever rolled out of bed of his own accord before eight, and it was only about six-thirty now.

So, yeah, Sam figured, he had plenty of time to go get breakfast—and maybe get a handle on this, too—before Dean woke up.

XXX

"So did you sleep with him?" Diana asked, poking her head out of the bathroom where she was putting her things away.

Practically any other person would have been scandalized at the frank question, but Nikki just glanced in her best friend's direction and then went back to hanging up her clothes with a casual, "Ew. No. We just had a beer or…five. It was only three months ago, so I was already with this guy," she added, gesturing to Derek, who was on the bed the two of them shared, staring into space.

"Huh?" Derek asked, looking over at them.

"Nothing, sweetie," Nikki soothed. "Go back to wondering about Sam."

"Oh. Okay."

"So then what _did_ you do to make a guy who was probably drop-dead blind drunk remember you three months later?"

Nikki shrugged. "I told him he was a lame idiot and then hustled him at pool."

"Yep, that'd do it," Diana said with a chuckle. "So do you think you're gonna see him again?"

"Well, it's sort of inevitable, isn't it?" Nikki replied, closing the door and sitting on her bed next to Derek on their bed. "I mean, if his brother is gonna be around, it only makes sense that Dean would be, too." She grinned slyly. "At least, I hope so. It's funny how he goes all pale when he looks at me."

XXX

JJ rolled over on the couch and realized that he was awake and thinking already.

Last night, he'd been just too _tired_ to do any of that. Whatever had happened in Drake's—_and his_, though he was still having a difficult time with that kind of thing—office had left him with a splitting headache and a rather severe bout of nausea. He didn't really recall much of the ride home, but he guessed Drake must have made him comfortable—but not on the bed. JJ wasn't nearly comfortable enough here to sleep in Drake's—_and his_—bed.

He wished he could be.

He wished he could _know_ them.

Everyone kept telling him that it was okay, that there was no pressure, that they knew it must be hard. That they would stick by him.

Drake told him the most.

Drake…he wanted _so badly_ to feel for Drake what the sandy-haired man obviously felt for him. He wanted to be comfortable around them—hell, around _anyone_ other than Sam, who for some reason was the only one who made him feel at ease. He wanted to stop hurting them with everything that _just wasn't there_.

Once again, JJ tried beating down whatever wall it was that separated him from himself, but…there was nothing. It was all just…blank.

_Damn it, why can't I just _remember

XXX

"For here or to go?" one of the bored-looking middle-aged waitresses that Sam always seemed to get stuck with asked.

"To go, please," Sam replied, already digging around for his wallet to pay for Dean's food.

"All right. That'll be a few minutes."

"Thanks," Sam said, already going to sit down at the counter, his hand coming up to rub his head as he dropped into his seat. He'd felt the pain steadily building the whole time he ate, along with a sense of _pressure_ and oh, God, _now_ he realized what that meant and why did it always take so _long_?

And just like that the onslaught of images began to flash.

By some sort of merciful, God-like strong of fate, the full impact of the pictures held back long enough for him to get the food, pay for it, and stumble out the door to the diner. He leaned against the brick outer wall of the diner and slowly slid to the ground, his head cradled in the hand that wasn't holding the take-out bag.

And then there was nothing to do but allow himself to sink into the vision.

XXX

"_Drake…Drake, stop it!" JJ giggled, leaping out of his boyfriend's reach. "Must you always _tickle_ me?"_

_Drake looked thoughtful for a moment, but the pout disappeared with a loud burst of laughter as Drake closed the gap between them and grabbed him around the waist, swinging him in a circle. "Dra-a-ake! What's gotten into you?" he asked with another breathless laugh once he was firmly on the ground again._

_Drake just grinned. "You must be rubbing off on me."_

"_Yes, I'm just a horrible influence," JJ agreed, smirking and pulling him into a kiss. He pulled back quickly, however, a mischievous grin on his face. "Race you to the corner," he challenged. "Loser finished _all_ the paperwork."_

_He took off without waiting for a reply, and Drake gave chase, chuckling quietly with every step._

Only JJ.

_Only JJ could make him act like he was twelve again._

_Only JJ could make him _feel_ like he was twelve again._

…_And only JJ could just up and disappear so totally and completely during a footrace._

XXX

Sam pulled himself away from the images of Drake looking around frantically for JJ, and found himself back outside the diner. Shakily, he stood up, his hand still pressed to his forehead.

_What the hell…?_

That had just been…weird. And…

And _what?_

What _was_ that?

Slowly, Sam dropped his hand back to his side and turned to head back to the motel, still pondering what he'd seen.

XXX

"I had a vision."

Dean rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and gave his brother A Look. "Dude, isn't it a little early?"

Sam rolled his eyes and shoved the bag to Dean's chest as he passed to sit on the bed. "I don't think that actually matters, Dean. Yeah, sorry, it's a little cold," he added as Dean started unpacking his food. "I was leaving the diner when it happened."

Dean shrugged. "Whatever." He took a bite of his breakfast burrito and asked with his mouth full, "Want your pills?"

Sam was momentarily puzzled by the question, until he remembered that he'd given his bottle of painkillers to his brother some months before, fearing that he used them as too much of a crutch.

He shook his head in answer to the question. "Nah. Headaches had time to die down."

Dean looked doubtful on that point, but he simply shrugged and said, "Okay, whatever, man. So tell me what you saw, then."

Sam ran a hand through his hair and sighed. "Well, it wasn't a normal vision, I can tell you that much."

"And _I_ can tell you that I can't believe you just said 'normal vision'."

Sam glowered. "Y'know, you're almost funny."

"_Almost_? But I was trying so hard…" Dean protested. "Ah, well, I'll work on it. So what was so…different this time?"

"Well, I saw JJ's disappearance, for one."

Dean was silent for a minute, absorbing this, before he said, "Come again?"

"You heard me. I saw the past. JJ and Drake were walking back to the 27th, and they were racing…to the corner, I think. JJ got there first, and by the time Drake caught up he just…wasn't there."

"And you didn't see anyone take him?"

"No, not a trace."

"What the _hell_?"

Sam held out his hands in a gesture of helplessness. "Got me, man. I have no idea. But we need to go talk to Drake."

"Uh…Sammy, aren't you…forgetting something?" Dean asked, looking strangely uncomfortable.

Sam thought about it. "No, I don't think so…" Then it struck him, and he clapped a hand to his head. "Derek…I'm supposed to meet Derek. And I _still_ haven't figured out what to tell him about all this!"

"Oh, and there's also the question of how you plan to explain this sudden burst of knowledge to JJ and Drake…and Ryo and Dee…and…well, maybe a few others, depending on who asks," Dean added helpfully.

Sam let out a long, agonized groan and fell onto his back. "This _sucks_!"

XXX

"So where're you supposed to meet that kid Sam?" Diana asked, looking at Derek in the mirror as she tried on earrings.

Derek grinned. "At his and dean's motel room in—" He glanced at his watch. "About an hour."

Nikki rolled her eyes. "Why is it that your face becomes a light bulb every time anyone mentions that guy? I don't have to worry about competition, do I?"

Derek glared at her and tossed a pillow in her direction. "Don't be gross. He's my best friend, okay? And I haven't seen him in almost two years."

Nikki captured the pillow and set it behind her, leaning against it and frowning. "Yeah, about that. You know you're gonna have to tell me what happened between you two."

Derek shrugged. "Not much to tell. He just…left school. I guess permanently. We keep in touch through e-mail, but…" He shrugged. "It's not the same." His face darkened for a moment before the smile came back as if it had never left. "God, I can't believe I met up with him _here_, of all places! And when he's here to help one of _your_ friends," he added to Diana.

"Yeah, that's weird," Diana agreed, finally picking out her earrings. "I didn't even know JJ _had_ any friends outside the precinct, let alone friends that…"

"Gorgeous?" Nikki asked, chuckling when Derek flashed her a mock-glare.

"Well, I was gonna say straight, but that works, too."

"You two are sick," Derek informed them, fishing in his pocket for his ringing cell phone. He looked at the caller ID and grinned as he flipped it open. "Hey, Sam!"

Nikki looked at him with amusement, wondering, as she often did, how a boyfriend of _hers_ could be so _happy_ all the time.

But then Derek listened to whatever Sam was saying, and his smile began to fade…

XXX

"Well. That was fun," Sam said darkly, hanging up his phone and frowning at it as if it were responsible for every one of his current problems.

"Ah, c'mon, Sammy, it couldn't have been _that_ bad," Dean said, in what was evidently supposed to be a reassuring tone of voice. "It's not like he'll never see you again…"

Sam looked bitterly amused, and Dean trailed off as he realized how stupid the words were.

"Look," he said finally, after a long silence during which both contemplated the fact that it was entirely possible for them to take off at any moment and _not_ see Derek again. "What if I promise you we won't leave until you get a chance to square things with him? Will _that_ be enough to make you stop acting so emo?"

Sam's answering smile was so small as to barely be seen, but it was a victory nonetheless.

"We should get going."

Dean stared at Sam's back as his brother headed for the door.

_So…discussion…over, then? _Damn_, but he is hard to deal with…_

XXX

"Do you want eggs?" Derek asked, peering intently into the fridge.

JJ shrugged. "I dunno. Do I?"

He'd tried for a light, bantering tone, and it seemed to work, because Drake was smiling a little when he turned around, closing the fridge and holding two eggs in his hand.

"I think it's wise."

"Okay, then. I guess I have to trust you. But if those things are disgusting, you'll pay."

Drake laughed, and JJ was surprised by the warmth that shot through him at the sound. "I'll remember that. So…is your head feeling better?"

"Yeah, it's fine now. Thanks."

"_Really_ fine, or 'I'm-too-stubborn-to-tell-you-the-_truth_' fine?" Drake asked shrewdly.

JJ looked at him in surprise. "What are you talking about?"

Drake's face fell. "Oh…nothing. It's just…you always used to…never mind…" He trailed off uncertainly, staring down at the eggs in his hand.

And then things were just uncomfortable again.

Drake fried the eggs and some bacon for their breakfast, all without speaking. JJ was silent, too, mostly because he had no idea of what he'd done to screw their conversation up, and he didn't want to make the same mistake again.

_I have _got_ to get a handle on this whole talking thing…_

The two of them were just finishing up the almost-silent meal when the doorbell rang. Drake frowned as he went to answer it, muttering something about "early," while JJ watched curiously from the table, almost hoping it was…

_Stop it! You're not supposed to be _hoping_ for anyone! You don't _know_ anyone!_

But even telling himself that didn't stop the spark of relief he felt when Sam's voice echoed through the apartment.

"We have to talk to you."

XXX

"Okay, okay, okay, just…_stop_ for a second," Drake said, gesturing somewhat frantically for silence. "You can't seriously be thinking that I had something to do with—"

"No, no, no, absolutely not," Sam assured him quickly. We're not accusing you of anything. But we do know that you were there."

"And…_how_ do you know this?"

Sam fought the urge to sigh. _He just _had_ to go there._

"That's way too complicated to get into right now," he said, thinking fast. "But…look, I promise to give you an explanation, okay?"

"Sam…" Dean growled.

Sam ignored him. It _was_ a little rash, but there was no other way to get what he wanted, he could already see that.

"But right now, could you not ask any questions? Please? I need something from you first, and then you can ask all you want."

"What do you want?" Drake asked suspiciously.

Sam looked steadily at him. "I need you to take us to the place JJ disappeared from."

XXX

"Sam, what are we doing here?" Dean asked in exasperation as he watched his brother.

"Looking," Sam replied calmly, running a hand along the wall.

"For _what_? It's been a month. Trail's cold, man." He glanced over his shoulder at JJ and Drake, the latter of whom was looking extremely uneasy about his current locale. "And our friendly neighborhood cops don't look too happy about being here."

"I know. And I wish I could do something about it, but this is important," Sam said vaguely, standing back to look at the wall itself. "You _know_ I never have a vision without reason."

"Yeah, yeah, I get it," Dean muttered. "But I still don't know what you expect to find…"

XXX

"JJ, where're you going?" Drake asked with his usual quiet concern as JJ pushed away from Dean's Impala and headed in the direction of the brothers.

"I'll be right back," JJ replied.

Sam looked up as the smaller man joined him. "JJ? Something wrong?"

JJ shook his head. "Nah. Whatcha doin'?"

"Looking," Sam said with a distracted smile. "You want to help?"

"Uh…what're we looking for?"

"I don't have a clue."

JJ thought about it a moment, then gave an easy grin. "Okay, then!" he said, and with that he began to imitate Sam in staring at the wall.

Sam's everlasting gentility wavered a bit when he said approximately two seconds later, "Hey, what's this?"

"What's what?" the hunter asked, coming to stand beside him.

"It looks like some kind of…powder," JJ said, reaching out to brush his fingers over the stuff clinging to the corner where the walls met.

There was absolutely no warning before the flash assaulted him.

XXX

_It was night, and Drake looked scared._

_Well, actually, he looked _terrified_. He didn't attempt to assist his fellow officers in their search, but rather sat huddled against the side of a police car, his arms wrapped around his knees, his eyes hollow and blank. Ryo crouched next to him, a hand on his shoulder, his face downcast._

_Cops swarmed all over the place, murmuring to each other and questioning and looking for…_something.

_But they wouldn't find it._

_Not if they looked for a thousand years._

XXX

JJ gasped as the images faded from his mind. He looked up to see Sam, Drake, and Dean hovering over him, all with identical expressions of worry.

"I-I'm fine. Just…another flash."

"What was it about?" Drake asked gently.

"I…I dunno. There were policemen…and they were…searching…and you were there, Drake. Ryo, too. But…I wasn't…"

"But…what sense does that make?" Dean asked. "If it's memory flashes you're having, shouldn't you have a featured role?"

JJ shrugged. "_I _don't know! It's not like I've ever _been_ in this situation before…I don't think…"

"You haven't," Drake assured him.

Sam, meanwhile, had gone back to the corner, and as Drake finished speaking he called, "Hey, Dean, c'mere."

Dean was at his side in a second, and Sam held up a hand. His fingertips were coated in yellowish powder.

"What is that?"

Wordlessly, Sam held his hand under Dean's nose, and instantly Dean inhaled the scent of burning matches.

"…I don't believe it."

* * *

_Author's Note: This isn't exactly all that important, I guess, but I think I should say it to whoever's reading this story anyway._

_I'm rapidly losing track of this story. In the beginning, it had a plot—a pretty good plot, if I remember correctly—and it was a whole lot less boring in the writing. But I guess I waited too long to start it, because it doesn't seem as good to me as it used to. I'm still going to finish it, but I totally don't blame anyone for not reading it. _I_ wouldn't read it! I'm only finishing it because I've never _not_ finished a story and I don't plan to start now._

_So. Yeah. That's it. The basic gist of my message._

_Except…well, I've never wished a story were over, but I really, really, _really _am right at this moment._

_And…uh…sorry to sound so emo. I'm really not feeling the way I sound! In fact, I'm pretty happy right now! And no, I'm not high, just hanging with a friend I don't usually see anymore, and that would make any sane person happy, right? So, yeah, totally not feeling emo. Unfortunately, there's really no way to say that you hate your own story in a _cheerful_ way…_**shrug**


	7. It's All Fodder for the Tell All

_Author's Note: I just noticed that I have been extremely remiss in replying to the incredibly kind MediaMiner reviewers. I'm so sorry! I didn't even realize!_

**Slightly Confused??**: I'm not sure if you're still reading this or not, but I thought I'd reply just the same. I'm sorry I put you off with the beginning! It all started out kind of slow—still _is_ slow, actually—but I do have a plot! Promise! Oh, and thanks for giving me Drake's last name. I'm not exactly FAKE-obsessed—I've only read the mangas once.

**Toaster-chan**: I'm glad I'm doing Nikki justice! Basically, I'm just taking the character (oh, let's just say it, YOU) and making her/you as sarcastic and snarky as possible. I hope you like her role in this chapter, too!

**dawnmm**: I'm glad you're liking it so far! Unfortunately, yes, I do disparage my own writing sometimes—can't break the habit, and I'm my own worst critic. It's a problem…

**Garita**: Thanks for reviewing! It's good I'm entertaining you, if I'm not entertaining myself. And as to what's up with JJ—all in good time. (In other words, soon. Believe it or not, there's not much left to the story. Yeah, I know. Great plot, huh? It's practically nonexistent…but hey, JJ whumpage! That's important!)

* * *

Chapter 5

By the time they got back to JJ and Drake's apartment, Sam was seriously regretting his hasty promise to tell all. At the time, he'd been prepared to do it if that was what it took to follow his strange vision, but now that he was actually facing the possibility of spilling the Big Family Secret—again—he was having doubts.

The problem was, he could see no way out of it. All the way back, he could feel one of the two in the back seat—probably Drake—studying him carefully, and that was how he knew he wasn't getting off the hook this time.

But Drake wasn't the only one looking at him, and Dean's frequent impatient glances were far more familiar. He was _not_ looking forward to the lecture he would inevitably get to hear when they were alone.

_One thing at a time. Drake and J first, then Dean. And Derek…_

_Maybe I should make a list…_

XXX

Back at the apartment, Drake went into the living room/kitchen, sat down in an armchair, waited for the rest of them to sit down, and then said, lightly and implacably, "Your turn."

Sam sighed. "Yeah. I—"

The doorbell rang, and Drake's jaw worked irritably for a second as he glared in that direction, then pushed himself out of his seat and headed for the door.

A moment later, Sam's stomach dropped as a decidedly angry female voice echoed through the apartment.

"They're here, aren't they?"

Drake didn't get a chance to reply before footsteps echoed into the room and in came Nikki, blazing with fury and looking just plain scary. Following her were an amused Diana and an acutely embarrassed Derek.

_And the list gets longer…_

XXX

Dean knew he shouldn't enjoy seeing his brother get nailed. And he didn't, usually, mainly because the only person he'd ever actually seen nail Sam was their father, and that was never an enjoyable experience for anyone.

But—well, right now he couldn't help but be amused as Sam practically cowered before the fire-breathing, death-dealing FBI agent that was suddenly Nikki Hudspeth. The woman was practically foaming at the mouth as she towered over Sam, spitting out her words like poison.

"You know, you seem like a nice guy to me, and the things I've heard only back that up, so I'm not actually going to kill you. But I _am_ going to tell you that you are _not_ getting away with ditching my boyfriend—and your _best_ friend—to hand out with Amnesia Boy and his hip ornament. No offense," she added sidelong to JJ and Drake.

"None taken," both of them said weakly.

"Now, I understand that you want to help JJ," Nikki plowed on. "And I applaud that, I really do. But you haven't seen this man in two years, and anyone can see that you missed him as much as he missed you. And I _don't_ think you're as emotionally stunted as your idiot big brother over there. Now, _him_ I could see doing this kind of thing. But you—well, I guess I just don't understand why you don't want to see Derek now."

Derek waited until she paused for breath, then said sheepishly, "I'm sorry, Sam. I told her not to come, but…she didn't buy it."

Sam smiled at him. "It's okay. She's right." Then he sighed heavily. "Actually, maybe it's better this way. Now I can just…tell everyone at the same time."

"_All _of them? _Now?_" Dean blurted, unable to keep quiet any longer.

Sam looked over at him, and Dean was somewhat mollified to see the same cornered irritation in eyes that must be mirroring his own. "Do you see any other choice?"

Dean's shoulders slumped. "No…"

"Besides," Sam said lightly, "we're not using up our _entire_ spotlight. There's one part of this that we haven't told Ryo and Dee, too, remember?"

But all the same, two FBI agents, two NYPD police officers, one of Sam's college buddies, and the promise of having to share Sam's _Shining_ deal with Ryo and Dee as soon as they were done here—he couldn't remember the last time they'd been in a scrape this bad.

_I _really_ wish this place had more than one exit._

XXX

Sam, meanwhile, was feeling very uncomfortable. "Okay. So where so I start?"

"How about with that…stuff…you found where JJ disappeared?" Drake supplied helpfully.

But Sam shook his head. "No, that would be the end. Trust me, this is one story you want to hear from…well, as close to the beginning as possible." He took a deep breath. "God, this is hard, especially considering the…circumstances."

"Sam, what is it?" Derek asked gently.

Sam looked at him, and something in his face seemed to have a steadying affect. He squared his shoulders, and he told them the truth—flatly, honestly, and brutally.

"Dean and I are paranormal investigators."

There was a moment of silence, and then Derek said, "_Never_ what you think it's gonna be!"

"…Come again?" Drake said.

"Even _I_ know enough to know why everyone's looking like that," Drake added.

"Yeah, that's not a story you spread around the office," Diana chimed in.

"Hmm…" Nikki said slowly, leaning back in her chair. "Maybe you have a decent excuse after all."

"Thanks," Sam said dryly.

"Oh…I didn't mean…I was just…oh, just get on with it, okay?"

Sam actually mustered up a grin for her before he continued.

He didn't give many details about the Winchesters themselves. How Mary had died, their training, Jessica, John—he skipped over most of that, because it really didn't pertain to this situation. He did talk about a few of the creatures they hunted—poltergeists, vampires, shapeshifters, and the like. He explained the shapeshifters especially carefully to the four officers, and Dean's relief was palpable when no one argued or jumped up to arrest him on the spot. He also alluded to some movies and popular songs in the hope of winning his brother over.

That was the easy part—the science of it all.

After that, it got…complicated.

"The powder we found was sulfur," he said when Drake asked again.

"Okay. Sulfur. And that has _what_ to do with anything?"

"Sulfur residue is what's left behind when demonic visitation occurs."

Drake stared at him for a long moment, then closed his eyes slowly. "Do I want to know what that means?"

Sam looked over at JJ and asked softly, "JJ, do _you_ want to know?"

JJ nodded immediately. "Tell me."

So, Sam very carefully laid out all the possibilities—which were blessedly limited. One: JJ had been possessed. Not likely, considering the fact that no crimes or deaths had been connected to him. Two: JJ had been turned evil. Not actually a real possibility, but important to put out there. Or three, and the one Sam had already decided to go with: JJ had been abducted by a demon for…some reason.

"I'm still working on the 'why' and the 'how you're still alive'," he concluded. "And somewhere there I'm looking into recovering your memory."

"…Wow," JJ said slowly. "That's…a lot."

"There's…a little more," Sam said hesitantly.

"Oh, no, _what_?" That was Diana this time.

"Well…" Sam hesitated for a long time, then turned—to Derek. He chuckled a little. "You're gonna love this one, man. Ya see, it seems that…I found out the details of JJ's disappearance because…" A huge breath, then a lot of words all jumbled together. "I'm-psychic-and-I-had-a-vision."

Another long silence before Derek asked, "You're—what, now?"

"Yep. I'm a psychic. I have visions. Usually death visions, only this time it was different. Used to be just in dreams, but now they come when I'm awake. I've been having them for a couple of years now. That's how I found out about JJ—I had one yesterday, and I'm really sorry you found out all this at once, and…that's it.

"That's it?" Drake asked. "You're sure?"

"I'm sure."

Drake put his head into his hands and let out a long, agonized groan. "I need a drink."

"Oh, yay!" Nikki said brightly. "Does that mean it's time to get smashed now?"

XXX

Sam excused himself as Drake was popping open the whiskey so he could get Ryo and Dee out of the way as soon as possible.

It took him a few moments to gather the courage to get out his phone and dial, wondering as he did how many people would know their secret by the time they left New York.

Ryo sounded tired when he answered, and Sam realized that it was barely nine A.M. "Hello?"

"Hi, Ryo, it's Sam."

"Sam? Is something wrong?" Ryo asked in alarm.

Sam gave a short, quiet chuckle. "Depends on your definition of the word. Everyone's okay and everything, except for the inebriation, but…"

"Inebriation? Sam, what did you do?" Ryo asked tiredly.

"I told JJ and Drake about what Dean and I do. My best friend and a couple of FBI agents were there, too. I also told JJ that the evidence points to him being kidnapped by a demon and I did all of this without warning my brother beforehand."

"…Wow," Ryo said when he'd finished. "You've had…quite a morning."

"You have no idea. That's actually why I'm calling—to give you an idea."

"What're you talking about?" Ryo asked apprehensively.

Sam paused, then said hesitantly, "I have to tell you something."

XXX

Ryo hung the phone up and slumped against the wall with a sigh.

"What's wrong?" Dee asked, coming out of their bedroom in time to hear the sigh.

"JJ was kidnapped by a demon. And Sam's psychic," Ryo said flatly.

He heard Dee groan. "Wonderful."

XXX

"Mind some company?"

Sam turned toward Ryo's door, his arms dropping to his sides, and faced Derek. He was outwardly calm, but his heart flopped nervously in his chest.

"Hey."

Derek walked over to him and leaned sideways against the wall, crossing his arms and staring out at the city over the balcony rail. Sam could see a glimpse that he was a little tipsy, but far from drunk.

"So this is what you were hiding from us at Stanford," he said casually, face and voice bland, and for the first time in the whole history of their friendship Sam couldn't read him. Then he looked at Sam's incredulous face out of the corner of his eye, and his features relaxed into a small smile. "Oh, come on, Sam, you didn't think we knew you were keeping secrets from us? I mean, we didn't think you were in the government ops or anything, but we knew you weren't telling us everything."

"…_All_ of you?" Sam asked in a strangled voice, picturing his many college friends.

To his relief, Derek shook his head. "Mostly just me and…and Jess. Paul had his moments, but most of the time it was just the two of us."

"Oh. That's…good, I guess." There was a moment of silence, and then Sam asked tentatively, "So…what do you think?"

"I think…this is _weird_. I mean, you wanted to be a _lawyer_. That's…the most _normal_ job in the entire world, and now I find out that you're…_not_."

Sam chuckled. "I tried, _believe_ me, I tried. But I guess I'm just…not meant for normal."

Derek echoed his laughter, and for a moment they shared a considerably more comfortable silence before Derek broke it by asking suddenly, "Her death wasn't natural, was it?"

Sam didn't pretend not to know what he was talking about. He simply said, in a voice heavy with sorrow, "No, it wasn't."

Derek nodded, sad but unsurprised. "They never found a reason, you know. Finally chalked it up to random arson. But it wasn't. She was murdered, wasn't she?"

Suddenly, Sam felt incredibly _old_. "Yes."

This time, Derek didn't ask any questions. He simply waited quietly, still looking over the city. After a moment spent studying him, Sam looked in the same direction.

"It was a demon. A demon that's been sort of…dogging my family—and others—since I was a baby. We don't know what its name is, but we call it the Yellow-Eyed Demon because—well, you get it. It…uh…killed my mom, too, when I was six months old. And…my dad, a few months back."

Derek looked quickly at him, before sighing and looking away. "Oh, man…"

Sam nodded, but didn't acknowledge the genuine distress on Derek's face except to feel a surge of warmth for his friend.

"Anyways, after that, it just kind of disappeared. Dean and I are trying to pick up the trail again, and in the meantime we're working jobs on the side."

"So…so you've been doing this your whole life?" Derek asked. "Investigating, or whatever you call it?"

"Hunting," Sam explained. "We call it hunting. And yeah—since my mom died. My dad started it. He taught Dean, and then me."

"Are you guys the only ones?"

Sam shrugged. "I used to think so. I mean, we had a couple of friends—Bobby, and Pastor Jim, and Caleb. I always thought it was a pretty small group, but…turns out there are a lot of us. We even have our own gossip mill, apparently. There are a ton of people who know about Dean and I that we've never met. Mostly friends of our dad. Seems there's a lot about this lifestyle he decided to keep to himself."

Try as he might, he couldn't keep the bitterness from his voice, and after a moment Derek said, "I'm sorry, Sam. You…you don't deserve this. Any of it."

"Yeah, well, you didn't deserve to have your best friend lie to you from the moment you met him, but…"

"Oh, stop beating yourself up about that," Derek said, waving a hand dismissively. "I can see why you never said anything. _I understand, _Sam."

_Yeah, but would you feel the same way if you knew I was responsible for Jess's death?_ Sam wondered. But he was careful to keep the thought from showing on his face, and simply said, "Yeah. Thanks for that. Really, you have no idea."

Derek shrugged. "Eh, what can I say? I'm a saint."

Sam stared at him until he finally realized that a joke had been put on the table. Then he laughed and said, "Shut up."

"Yeah, I know, you're bitter. It's hard being friends with someone so angelic," Derek said solemnly.

Sam chuckled again. "Shut up."

Derek opened his mouth, probably to make another bad joke, but he was cut off when JJ poked his head out the door, grinning widely.

"C'mon, guys, you're missin' all the fun! This…" He pointed to the bottle in his hand. "…Is _tasty!_ Drake says I don' drink it a lot, but I can't figure out why…it makes my head feel funny…like i's gonna float away…I like it…"

"Oh, believe me, you'll see the problem later," Sam replied with a smile.

"…Huh?" JJ asked in confusion.

"Never mind," Sam said quickly. "We'll be there in a minute."

JJ tried to look menacing and failed miserably. "Promise?"

"Yeah."

JJ smiled brightly. "'Kay!" he chirped, and then disappeared back into the apartment.

Sam and Derek stayed on the balcony for a minute more, just looking at each other, and then Derek said, "Thanks for telling me, man."

Sam smiled wordlessly at him, and Derek reached out and clapped him on the shoulder.

"Come on. Let's go back in. I'm betting it's been a while since you've had a drink."

"Not long enough."

"Now _that_ I believe, you fine, upstanding citizen, you."

Sam rolled his eyes. "Oh, yeah, you and Dean are gonna get along great."

It wasn't until they were already headed back inside that he realized with a pang of puzzlement that Derek hadn't said a word about his abilities.

XXX

The "party"—which basically consisted of Dean, JJ, Drake, Diana and Nikki getting drunk off their asses, Derek getting a bit tipsier, and Sam abstaining completely—lasted until the afternoon, and probably would have gone longer if real life hadn't intruded.

As it was, Drake and JJ were supposed to meet Ryo and Dee at the precinct, so they could at least put up the appearance of conducting an investigation, and Diana wanted to go with them as a buffer in the event that Commissioner Berkley Rose showed up. Nikki and Derek decided eventually to go out to lunch, but Derek promised to meet up with Sam later.

And so the group split up and, considerably more knowledgeable—and drunk—than before, went their separate ways.

XXX

"Okay, so no offense, sweets, but you pick the weirdest friends," Nikki said flatly, finally breaking their silence as soon as they were seated with their food at their chosen café. "Not that they're _bad_, or anything, just…"

"Weird," Derek finished for her.

"Yeah. I mean, _ghost hunters?_ Okay, so obviously I knew ghosts were real. I've told you about the haunted house I lived in. But I always figured people just…_dealt_ with them. I never thought people actually _hunted_ them. And _psychics?"_

Derek shook his head at that and said in a remarkably calm voice, "Dean isn't psychic. Just Sam."

Nikki stared at him. "You're taking this really well. Aren't you at least a _little _freaked out by this?"

"Why? Would it be more entertaining for you if I was?"

"Well, _yeah_," she said in exasperation, and Derek chuckled. He sobered quickly, though, and began picking at a napkin as he spoke.

"Seriously, though? I don't know what there is to be freaked about. He seemed to know what he's doing and he seems…relatively okay. And okay, so the psychic thing is a little hard to believe, but…at least he told me, right? And at least now I can be there for him. So yeah, I guess I'm fine."

Nikki looked at him for a long time, then said, "Wow. That's very...healthy. God, how have I spent six months in a relationship with a man who actually tried to _avoid_ drama?"

Derek smiled, and leaned in to kiss her. "Maybe it's because you're secretly much more of a peacekeeping person than you like to think."

She thought about it, then shook her head. "Nah. Impossible. Obviously I'm just insane."

XXX

"That time has _got_ go be wrong," Dean slurred, stumbling over the side of his bed and collapsing onto it.

"Nope, it's right. You're officially hung over before the clock hits three," Sam told him pitilessly, sitting down on his own bed and pulling out the laptop.

"Hey, back off. This is all your fault," Dean mumbled into his pillow.

"Oh, yeah, 'cause I remember forcing that fifth bottle down your throat."

"You know what I mean. You coulda warned me about your little tell-all session _before_ you spilled. Nearly gave me a heart attack. Again."

"Sorry."

"Yeah, well, you say that now." Dean sighed, almost passed out by now. "I don't think this day could get any worse."

XXX

A couple of hours later, Dean groaned loudly as he was shaken awake.

"_Go away_, Sammy."

"Sorry, man, but I found something important that I think you need to know."

Dean let out another groan and turned over, glaring at the fuzzy shape that resembled Sam.

"This better be good."

Sam sat back down on his bed, looking—sad, or irritated, or _something._

"Remember when you said you didn't think this day could get any worse?"

"If I say no, will you go away?"

"No."

"I remember."

"Well, it just got worse."

Dean groaned. "Aw, man, what'd you find out?"

"I think JJ is psychometric."


	8. Narcoleptic Nate

**Slightly Confused?**: Thanks for reviewing! I'm glad you didn't abandon the story, though I would certainly understand if you did. (Lest we forget, _I_ considered abandoning this story for a little while there…) Anyways, glad I cleared things up for you, but I am sorry you haven't seen _Supernatural._ That's especially unfortunate since they're actually the main part of the story. On which is my main venue, this story is posted under the Supernatural category, see. (I have to change the MediaMiner category…)

**Toaster-chan**: Thanks for reviewing again! Trust me when I say that you and a couple of others are basically keeping this story alive single-handedly. If not for you I may have given up entirely by now. As it is, I'm merely consuming massive amounts of chocolate and waiting on pins and needles for it to end.

* * *

Chapter 6

"Well, I already knew the guy was psycho," Dean mused. "That much was obvious. But what's with the metric?"

Sam shifted his gaze from the computer screen to his brother, and stifled a sudden, unexpected surge of amusement. Dean was sitting up in his bed now, all traces of the hangover erased in the face of actual answers. It never ceased to amaze Sam how he could switch moods so suddenly, especially when on the job.

Then Dean glared at him, his slightly bloodshot eyes asking, "What's your problem?" and Sam could tell that the hangover was still there, just shoved aside for the moment as a distraction. He turned quickly back to the screen and answered Dean's question.

"Psychometric is the term for people who can use psychometry."

"Never heard of it," said Dean, looking a little surprised. Sam couldn't exactly blame him—sometimes Winchesters tended to forget that it wasn't actually possible for them to know absolutely _every_ supernatural force in the universe.

"Yeah, well, it's not as well known as some abilities. And you wouldn't know about it because it can't actually hurt anyone, so it probably hasn't been much of an issue." He shrugged and didn't look at Dean, not wanting to see the frustration that he knew would be there. "Anyway, psychometry is pretty simple to explain. It's basically just when you touch an object and get a flash of it's…history, I guess. You can pick up the thoughts and feelings of someone who touched it, and sometimes scenes, too. Like all psychic abilities, it seems to come with a headache, disorientation, that kind of thing."

Dean was staring at him when he finally looked over, but where some might mistake his expression for one of awe, Sam knew differently. To him, it was clear that Dean was wondering if Sam was maybe adopted after all. The sentiment was just as obvious when he spoke.

"Dude, _where_ do you pick this crap up?"

Sam shrugged, and bit back a grin because that would only irritate Dean. "Around."

The truth of the matter was that he'd been studying up on all manner of psychic abilities almost since the day he'd gotten his, and he probably knew enough to publish his own encyclopedia by now.

But he wasn't going to tell Dean that.

"Okay, so what makes you think JJ's…whatever that word is?"

"Well, I started thinking about it when JJ had that flash at the place where he disappeared. I was sure it wasn't a memory flash because he wasn't in it. But it couldn't be a vision because it was of the past. Both of his flashes were. Then it occurred to me that both of them also happened in the same place where JJ was when he had the. I put two and two together and got this."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Thank God you weren't this much of a geek back when I had friends. I would've had to lock you up."

Sam smirked for a moment, then sighed. "But you know what all this points to, right?"

Dean's gaze became distant, and Sam could practically see the wheels turning as Dean sifted through the facts—JJ's ability, the sulfur they'd found clinking to the wall where JJ had disappeared, the disappearance itself, Sam's vision…

It was probably the vision that did it. Dean's eyes widened as he went slightly paler. Then he let out a long, low groan and rubbed his forehead, the hangover obviously rearing its ugly head again. Then he sighed deeply and looked up again.

"Fine. Let's figure out what to do with this before we talk to JJ."

XXX

The rest of the Winchesters' daylight hours were spent trying to collect as much information as possible—about JJ's ability, mostly, though Sam also insisted that they search for ways to restore his memory, as well. It was Dean's idea—and Sam agreed wholeheartedly—that it would probably be wise to know as much as possible when they talked to JJ, in the slim hope of minimizing the blow a bit.

As the sky grew steadily darker, though, Sam decided that it was about time they got it all out in the open, before his mind jumped in with all kinds of stupid reasons to keep this development to himself—reasons that would inevitably prove to have more to do with his own cowardice than anything else.

However, his eagle eye did note that there was one person in the room that was even less thrilled with the situation than he was.

"Hey, Dean, why don't you just stay here?" he advised, and no one could have mistaken the look on the older hunter's face as anything other than the relief it was.

Still, of course Dean wouldn't have it in him to let the offer stand without question. "Why? Not like I have so much to do."

Sam shrugged. "I just don't see the point in both of us going. It's all the same information anyway. And I know you're even more uncomfortable around JJ than he's been around you—" _and everyone else_— "since he lost his memory." Then, to lighten what was most certainly not an insult, merely the truth, but an unsettling truth all the same, the younger Winchester smiled and said, "Besides, you still need to sober up."

Dean glared and reached across the space between their beds to grab a pillow from Sam's bed. "Get outta here, Sammy," he growled, chucking it across the room.

Sam ducked laughingly and the pillow bounced harmlessly off the wall. "I'll bring back dinner," he said as he opened the door.

"Whatever," Dean muttered, already falling back to the bed.

Neither Winchester spoke the deeper reason for Dean's staying behind—that fact that both of them resolutely ignored but that hung constantly between them like an unspoken curse.

Fact was, Dean hated thinking about what he called the _Shining_ deal—not only in his brother, but in anyone. Especially in someone they knew. If a friend of theirs was psychic, like Andy or, had he gotten to know her, Ava, things just got…complicated. Unnatural abilities just had a horrible tendency of mucking things up, especially with all the new truths about those abilities coming to light.

And more confusion was absolutely the last thing they needed right now.

XXX

Sam was getting more than a little sick of surprises—even the good kind, to an extent—but it seemed the world wasn't quite done throwing them at him yet, because Derek, Nikki and Diana were back at JJ and Drake's apartment when he got there.

Sam heard them before he saw them—heard Derek laughing at some joke or other—so he managed to sound merely idly curious when he asked, "What're you doing here?" upon reaching the living room, instead of sounding like he was wondering if some sort of outside force was at work on him and Derek here.

To his credit, Derek looked just as surprised where he was sitting next to Nikki on the couch. "Oh…well, Diana wanted to come over to see how JJ was feeling after…yeah…and Nikki and Diana came because she…felt like it, I guess. I came along because I didn't want to be left alone and I wasn't sure if you two would still be passed out."

Sam gave him a mock-sour look. "Hey, lest we forget, _I_ was the only one who _didn't_ drink."

"Mmm…and I really wish I'd had your forethought…" a slow, slightly pained voice spoke up from the floor.

Sam looked down and only then noticed that JJ was sprawled out on the floor, definitely sobered up and looking a little depressed and slightly green. He squinted up at Sam, then groaned softly and threw his arm over his eyes to block the light.

Sam smiled and crouched down next to him. "You in a little bit of pain there, JJ?"

"More than a little…God, why didn't anyone _stop_ me?"

Surprisingly, it was Drake who laughed the hardest at that question—Drake, who had hardly let a chuckle escape since Sam first saw him at the hospital.

"We tried to warn you, JJ. We _said _you don't drink often. And Sam here warned you every time you popped open a bottle that you were going to regret it."

"Well, you should've done _more!"_

"Like what?"

"Like…I dunno, smashing a bottle over my head…"

"I'll keep that in mind," Drake said in what was evidently supposed to be a soothing tone. Then he turned to Sam, and suddenly the joke was over.

Sam squirmed uncomfortably under that steady gaze, feeling suddenly as if he were under an NYPD Blue interrogation lamp. The feeling only intensified when Drake asked carefully. "Did you have something to tell us, Sam?"

Sam let out his breath in a big gust, a murmured "Yeah" mixed in. Then he threw an apologetic glance in Derek's direction and added, "It's sort of…a sensitive subject. Can we talk in private?"

Drake looked a little surprised, and with good reason. After all, hadn't Sam already spilled what amounted to his family's biggest secret to the whole group at once? He covered well, though, and simply said, "Sure." Then he turned to look down at JJ and said reluctantly, "JJ, you need to get up now."

"What?"

"Sam has something to tell us."

"No."

"JJ—"

"No…not time to get up yet…room still spinning…can't move…"

"It's okay," Sam broke in when Drake went to urge the other man to his feet. "You can just pass it on to him later."

"Oh…uh…all right," Drake said in confusion. "I guess…we can talk in my room, then. We'll be right back," he added to the room at large.

Sam tried not to feel it, but the relief was there all the same—relief at not having to tell JJ himself, relief at having a good reason to duck out and let someone else deal with it for a change.

It was a traitorous thing, that relief. He shouldn't feel it, he knew. After all, wasn't he the only one who really knew how J would feel when he found out he was psychic? Wasn't it his _job_ to help in any way he could, to help JJ _understand?_

And yet…on the other side of the coin, how could he hope to make JJ understand, when he still had such a hard time with it himself sometimes?

Maybe the relief was justified after all…

_Ha. Yeah, keep telling yourself that, Sammy-boy. Maybe you'll even start to believe it eventually._

XXX

Drake took it pretty well, all things considered. He didn't tell Sam he was insane, and that was a first. He didn't run screaming from the room, which was only slightly less surprising. He didn't even ask how Sam could be so sure. He simply sat cross-legged at the foot of his bed, staring off into space, his face deceptively blank as his mind raced.

Sam didn't push him, waiting patiently for the inevitable flood of questions.

It never came.

In the end, Drake only asked one question.

"Is it dangerous?"

Sam stared at him, and he elaborated.

"To JJ. Is it dangerous to JJ? Could it…you know, hurt him?"

"Uh…" Sam replied intelligently, fumbling for words. He'd never had any call to think on this question before, given the fact that no one had ever actually asked before. "Well, it's not like it will mess anything up in his head or anything. I mean, the flashes will hurt like hell, but they don't really affect him any more than that, physically."

Drake studied him intently. "Sam, what aren't you telling me?"

Sam took a moment to reflect on the fact that maybe it was a good thing Dean was always the one lying to the cops before he proceeded to lay out the whole, ugly truth.

By the time he finished, Drake was decidedly less calm.

XXX

Dean prowled restively around his and Sam's motel room, his mind as agitated as his body, which just couldn't seem to decide what to do with itself.

He'd been this way all day, too. At odd moments, he would find himself getting up to pace the room. He'd move from the bed to the door, open it, stare out for a while, close the door, turn around, go to the open laptop, stare at _that_ for a while, get up, return to the bed, sit there for a bit, and then start all over again.

So, yeah, the whole sleeping it off idea?

Great in theory, but the execution had so far been a little elusive.

And the worst of it was that he had no idea where this tension was _coming_ from. It was just…._there_, like a heavy, stifling, smothering blanket.

Of course, at least part of it was the fact that right at this very moment, Sam was telling a man who was very possibly already psycho that he was also psych_ic_, and there was no way of telling what this knowledge would do to an already damaged psyche. Oh, and that JJ and Drake were licensed to carry guns and they would definitely receive the news with something considerably less than utter joy.

But there was more to Dean's bad feeling than all that.

He just…couldn't put his finger on it.

This was rapidly driving him insane.

In the hopes of distracting himself, Dean sat down on his bed again and turned his thoughts to something else.

The first thing that came to mind was almost as off-putting a subject, but it was also one guaranteed to hold his attention, and so he latched onto it with vigor.

Why was he so much more uncomfortable around this new J than he was around the old one?

After all, the JJ he'd met last summer was certainly a more…disturbing specimen, to say the least. The man had been so gay he could barely contain it. Now, that Dean probably would have been able to deal with. He had been nothing less than truthful that time he'd told Sam he didn't care about that kind of thing. No, what bothered him was that twice-cursed _affection!_

And okay, so maybe Dean was asking for it, with his inarguably gorgeous face, but he couldn't _help_ being so handsome! Did JJ honestly have to jump him and scream inappropriate nicknames _every_ time they saw each other?!

And yet…and yet…

And yet, Dean couldn't deny the truth to his own private thoughts.

And the truth was, right now he would take any one of those pounces, any one of those nicknames, if JJ would just stop being that polite, normal, nice guy who didn't even recognize _himself_. It felt like JJ was…possessed, or like he'd switched bodies with someone else. The fact that JJ didn't know his own friends hurt all of them, and there was nothing to be done about it and—

And _obviously_ Sam was turning him into a girl because he _never_ had thoughts like this and now that he'd thought about Sam here he was back at square one and he had accomplished _nothing_…

But hey, wait, maybe he had, because now that he'd taken a break from thinking about it, he understood where the tension had been coming from.

His Sam-sense was all tingly.

_Well, that's never good_.

XXX

Over the next twenty minutes, Sam watched as all the precautions he'd taken to protect JJ's privacy were systematically broken down. All of the composure that Drake had grasped so firmly for days now seemed to shatter under the weight of this new problem.

Everyone sat around and watched as the sandy-haired NYPD cop paced the living room, gesticulating and ranting rather wildly. They all looked rather nervous, and Sam couldn't exactly blame them, because Drake just looked…insane. And it couldn't help that they all had to piece together the _why_ of the freak-out from the fractured, broken, incoherent sentences.

JJ's hangover wasn't helping matters, either. He seemed to have no idea that he was the topic of discussion. He made a valiant attempt to follow the conversation at first, but eventually just gave up and instead traced Drake's path with his eyes.

Sam, for his part, was seriously regretting his idea of telling Drake first, because now he couldn't think of a way to shut the man up and actually do what he came to do—help JJ feel better about his situation.

Finally, after Sam felt that a suitable amount of time had passed and that it was about time for Drake to calm down, he spoke, carefully pitching his voice so that he got their attention without seeming to yell.

When Drake fell silent and shot him a dark look, Sam stood up and said, "Drake, come with me. Now," he added when Drake went to protest, and he was taken aback by the note of command in his own voice. Drake nodded reluctantly and stalked back onto his room without another word.

"Sam, what's going on?" Derek asked, and Sam felt a twinge at the innocence of the question.

"I wish I could tell you, man. I really do. But it's…it's sort of his business."

Derek shrugged. "Hey, I probably wouldn't get it anyway, would I?"

"Well…no," Sam replied, and though Derek's tone was bantering, he felt a little sad as he followed Drake into his room.

Drake was standing in the middle of the room when he came in, looking unhappy. He whipped around as Sam closed the door and opened his mouth.

Sam beat him to it. "Drake, listen to me. I need you to calm down. Right now."

"But I—"

"I know. I know you're scared. Who wouldn't be, right? And I know you're tired and you feel like you can't handle anything else. But you have got to calm down, okay? As tempting as it must be to fly off the handle, as good as it might feel to yell until you're hoarse, you _can't_. JJ needs you now. He's not going to deal with this very well, and he's going to need you to be there for him."

Drake had been staring at him through this entire diatribe, and now he took a deep breath and let it out, very slowly.

"Okay. So what do we do about this? How do we protect him from this…thing?"

Sam winced, because that was absolutely the worst question he could have had to answer while trying to calm Drake down.

"Well…uh, me and Dean are working on that."

As he'd expected, Drake's rant began anew with that.

"DRAKE!" Sam bellowed before the tirade could gather any wind. "Get hold of yourself!"

Drake came up short, looking almost as surprised as Sam felt—and a little contrite.

"You're right. I'm sorry. I just can't seem to get my mind around…this."

Sam sighed a little. "I know the feeling. But believe me when I say that this will be a lot harder for JJ. So you're gonna have to cool off. Forget about protecting him—Dean and I'll do that. Just concentrate on _him_, okay? He's going to feel a little lost for a while, even when—" _If_... "—He gets his memory back. He'll probably withdraw and try to pretend it isn't happening, and he'll act fine when he's not. What he won't do is talk about it, so you're gonna have to make him."

"But…Sam, isn't this kind of…your thing? I mean, can't you help him better than I can right now?"

Sam shrugged. "I thought so, but…no. all I can do is explain the mechanics to him. I can't guess how he's feeling—I don't know him well enough. You do."

Drake shook his head. "But I…"

The half-hearted protest was cut off when Drake decided it was time for a nap.

_Huh. No one told me he was narcoleptic,_ Sam thought in mild surprise as he watched his friend collapse to the carpeted floor, his eyes closed and his breathing deep and even.

"…Drake?" he asked, stepping forward to lean down and shake him. "Drake, wake up."

When that proved just as useless as Sam had thought it would be, he straightened and went to Plan B: get someone else in here.

The idea probably would have gone more according to plan if everyone except JJ hadn't been gripped with the same impulse to snooze.

"Uh…Sam, what's going on?" JJ asked nervously as he stood in the middle of the room, surrounded by three people, all in a state of sound sleep. "They all just…collapsed. I think they're alive, but…"

Sam motioned for silence, and JJ acquiesced. Then, with quiet efficiency, Sam went to each of the other three and checked to make sure they were all indeed alive. Reassured that they were fine, just out like lights, he stood still and waited.

"Hello, Sam."

On some level, Sam had already known, and he was able to turn without much surprise to face the Yellow-Eyed Demon that was his family's nemesis.

* * *

_Author's Note: Just a little info for those of you who are reading on MediaMiner. This story will be moving as of the next chapter to the _Supernatural_ section of the web site. They're in here more often than anyone else, and I didn't realize that was the case until recently. I intended to split it up pretty evenly, but it didn't turn out that way, so I'm moving it. Just thought I'd let you know._

_Oh, and also, another note entirely for you Supernatural fans. I _know_ that the whole putting-people-to-sleep thing is TOTALLY not something the YED would do. He's not nearly that polite. But there was NO WAY I was going to kill my Derek. It would be a snowy day in Hell before I let that happen. (Oh, and Diana and Nikki are cool, too…) So just pretend he had a stroke or an aneurysm or something and decided not to kill anyone._


	9. Root Word: Psycho

**Slightly Confused?**: Well, that settles it, then, doesn't it? The movement of this story is hereby cancelled and no harm done! I didn't know anyone actually cared all that much. Sorry! But anyways, I'm keeping the story where it is, unless someone complains about there being so few FAKE scenes in the story. Even then I don't know if I'd move it, now that I know you actually like it. So there, it's done, no harm, no foul!

**Garita**: Glad you're still liking the story! I'm sorry in advance for the slowness of this chapter, though—it ended up being more of a filler than I'd planned—but things will speed up soon because the next chapter should be the last. Or maybe the last before the epilogue…**shrug** Whatever. The point is, this chapter: slow. The next chapter: less slow. Promise.

**Toaster-chan**: Sorry, hon, but it was necessary, and you knew I was leading up to it! It shouldn't come as much of a surprise...anyways, thanks for reviewing! (And I kept my eye out! And read the story! And reviewed! I win!)

* * *

Chapter 7

Dean stared down at the large map of New York City that lay flat on the table in front of him, his eyes scanning it and taking in every detail even as his mind flitted from thought to thought in a seemingly aimless fashion.

The map had been procured courtesy of Ryo, who was now sitting on the floor next to Dee, his back against the couch, knees drawn to chest, Dee's arm tossed over his shoulders. In the back of his mind, it occurred to Dean that obviously Ryo was more upset by all this than he was letting on, if he was allowing—even welcoming—that kind of contact in front of others.

Diana, Derek, and Nikki were lined up on the couch behind them, all in various stages of freak-out. Nikki, naturally, was the calmest, having no personal history with either of the missing men. She sat with her hand clasped in Derek's, offering wordless support and proving that she could, in fact, put a hold on her cynicism if the situation required it.

Diana, too, appeared fairly cool, leaning against the arm of the couch, her chin propped in her first in a causal pose. But her eyes snapped angry fire, and her mouth was set in a grim line. She was not nearly as settled as she looked.

Derek, though, outstripped both of them. His eyes were wide as saucers, and Dean had his doubts about them ever returning to normal size. He just couldn't seem to believe that his best friend had been snatched by some faceless, otherworldly creature that he himself had no experience with whatsoever. But apparently, it hadn't occurred to Derek, bless him, that Sam could very well be hurt or—worse—right now, and Dean planned to keep it that way.

Dean forced his wandering attention back to the map without once looking at Drake, standing across the table from him. He didn't' look because he couldn't—because right now he had a handle on himself, but he could very well lose that grip if he looked at the one person in the room who _did_ know the full horror of the situation, and may actually be feeling something relatively close to what he himself felt.

As his eyes turned back to the paper, Dean noted clinically that the older part of the city was a veritable maze of warehouses and storage space. Since the thought had come, he circled the area with the bold black marker he held, and went back to scanning.

As he did, his mind began to dart back through the events of the last couple of hours. He felt an odd sort of detachment, and had felt the same way for hours, as if he was something separate, inhuman, unable to feel as he should—as if he were watching some sort of horror movie, or maybe having one of Sam's visions.

But really, even though he knew he should be thinking_ something_ besides _This could be a hideout_ and _Maybe they could be here_, right now Dean welcomed the numbness. It helped his mind remain clear and sharp, helped him remain a hunter, gave him a shot at finding his brother.

It also kept him from falling apart as he recalled the last few hours.

Once he'd realized that something was wrong, Dean hadn't stuck around the motel room for a moment longer than it took to call Drake's apartment and get no answer. He'd gone straight to the car that had never failed him before, and he'd made the eight-and-a-half-minute drive to the apartment in just under four. He barely remembered flying up two flights to the apartment and bursting in with Sam's name rising in his throat.

The panic had left him abruptly when he saw everyone stretched out all over the room—minus JJ and his brother. Somehow, having the worst actually happen seemed to balance things, and Dean was able to revive the others with all the professionalism of the trained soldier he was. His heart still beat like the wings of a hummingbird, his muscles were still tight and coiled like individual little springs, and his body told him he was still as frightened as he had been in the car, but somehow his mind had become a transcendent thing, able to rise above the situation and treat this almost like any other case.

He'd never accomplished this before—not when it came to Sam.

Maybe he'd never been this scared before.

Then again, Sam had never been kidnapped by an evil demonic creature before, either.

Dean's mind was brought sharply back to the present when Drake suddenly asked, "Dean, what are we looking for?"

Not a single smart-aleck remark sprang to mind—no _If you don't know then how come you're looking? _Or _You're the big shot cop, can't you figure it out?_ Instead Dean just answered absently, "Nothing in particular."

"Well, then what in hell are you _doing_?" Diana asked, everything in her form emanating tightly-leashed fury. "Wait…you're not psychic, too?!"

That question actually gave Dean pause, his mind jumping automatically to his brother.

He hadn't really thought about it before—hadn't ever really tried to define that heightened intuition he had when it came to his brother and, to a much more limited extent, his dad, back when John was still alive. He'd had the intuition since he was a child, back when John still had a sense of humor and came up with a name for it.

But Dean had never tried to describe his Sam-sense to anyone. After all, how do you explain something that close to your heart? How do you put into words a feeling so intrinsic to your existence that being without it would be like being denied air and breath and life? How does a person put something like that into _words?_

But all the same, he knew what the Sam-sense was _not_, and how to answer Diana's question.

"No," he replied simply, and turned back to the task at hand.

XXX

Whatever the verb was for "nightmare" JJ was pretty sure he was doing it. He still couldn't remember who he was, only now he had the added bonus of being utterly alone.

He didn't try to take in his surroundings. He didn't _want_ to know where he was, for fear of finding out it was…_worse._

_Worse than what?_

"Oh, don't worry about things like that, Jemmy!"

The voice was cheerful, almost friendly, even, but it chilled JJ to the bone as soon as he heard it. His mind still wasn't quite clear enough to sort out the intricacies of tone and language, but all the same, he could tell that this voice was…off-center. Too flat, too unemotional. Cold.

JJ couldn't bring himself to look, but he couldn't very well make himself deaf, and even if he had, it probably wouldn't have done any good. The voice seemed to act as a bolt of lightening, striking at his mind and beating the soft words in with a sledgehammer.

"After all, does it really _matter_ where you are? It isn't like you can get away, or anything."

"Who are you?" JJ asked flatly, without any sort of emotion coloring his tone.

"Don't you know?"

"…Yes." And he did. Just like that. "You took my memory."

"A-plus." There was a note of mockery in the voice now. "You really are much more intelligent than your—ahem—_friends_ give you credit for."

"No," JJ replied in the same flat voice. "You put the thought in my head."

He had no idea where these sudden bursts of insight were _coming_ from, but he guessed there must be a reason for them, so he didn't try to hold back whatever slipped past his lips.

This time, his words elicited a quiet chuckle. "Very good, Jemmy. Yes, you're right. I took your memory. Would you like to hear why before or after I tell you why I snatched you out from under your lover's nose? I assume you want to hear both of those stories before I tell you what's going to happen here today."

JJ didn't know why, but his fear chose that moment to finally spike, unfurling in an ugly bloom in his stomach. "Did you…did you hurt them?" he managed to choke out around the sudden tightness in his chest and throat.

"All right, fine, I'll pick," the voice said in a reply that wasn't a reply. "Let's see…I think it's better to start at the beginning, so I'll explain to you exactly what happened to your memory. If you want to know, that is."

The words were ripped from JJ before he could stop them. "Yes. I do."

The speaker sounded thoroughly pleased, warming instantly to his subject.

"Well, Jemmy, as you know, you're a psychic. I don't think you want or need me to explain your ability to you, though. Now, normally, I'd be delighted to have another of your kind in the family—"

"My _kind? _The _family?"_

"—But you see, here's the problem. _I didn't know about you."_

There was a moment of dead silence, and then JJ asked slowly, "What are you talking about?"

"Oh, nothing much. I'm just a little confused by the fact that you managed to sneak up on me, when I was certain I knew the location of every psychic on this plane."

"Plane? What's a plane?"

"Something that's far too complicated to explain to you. But I guess that will teach me never to assume, since there are anomalies in every group. I'm actually a bit ashamed of that—it was such a human mistake. Ah, well, it's done with now."

JJ was already getting tired of this speech, but his fear was growing each second, and he couldn't say a word.

"But it really doesn't matter anyway, because I could never have made anything out of your power, anyway. Unlike the abilities of my children, you are unpredictable. They came on many years late, and they will be entirely too powerful when fully developed. Of course, they won't be more powerful than _my_ protégé, but I'll actually have control over him. You, on the other hand, are another story."

_Please, please, _please_ get to the point or hurry up and kill me…_

"So, I took you away. I intended to find out if I could make something of you. When I failed, though, I decided on another tack. I let you go. I wanted to see how you did around others, hoping it would give me a clue of how to turn you into something I could actually use. I removed your memories so you couldn't tell anyone where you'd been, but it's difficult to remove a few select memories without removing them all, so I took the simpler path."

"What…you…you made me forget who I am because it was _easier?"_

"Don't mistake me for one of you humans," the stranger said, sounding annoyed now. "I don't let the things that you worry about bother me. I have a goal. You may have been a danger to that goal. So I took care of the problem. It is what it is."

Those words brought an abrupt end to the conversation. JJ still couldn't seem to control his own body, but this time it was because he was incensed. Before he registered that he was moving at all, he had turned around and launched himself across the intervening space between him and his tormenter. Suddenly, it didn't matter why he was here. All that mattered was _hurting_ this bastard who had done this to him.

He took in a human face, a curled lip, a pair of yellow eyes, and then he struck something solid. His fist flew, struck, drew back, struck again, he kicked out wildly with his foot….and all the time he screamed himself hoarse.

And all the time, the creature laughed.

XXX

Sam watched in fearful confusion as JJ threw himself at the dummy hanging on the wall, apparently attempting to beat it into submission. The man had been talking to himself for ten minutes now, and pausing to listen, as if someone answered him.

"JJ! JJ, stop it! You're gonna hurt yourself!" he yelled desperately, straining at the ropes that held him fast.

"He can't hear you."

It took a lot of concentrated effort for Sam to act casually irritated rather than terrified, but he managed it, somehow. "So were you trying to scare us, or just being dramatic?"

The YED stepped up beside him. "He thinks that's me, you know," it pointed out, as if they were observing rain clouds. "I'm hoping to exhaust him so he'll stop fighting so hard."

Sam was confused then. As far as he could tell, JJ had been unconscious just as long as he had, and he'd seen no visible resistance.

"His _mind_, Sammy," the demon explained, and Sam's insides sparked at this use of the nickname only Dean was allowed to call him. "He's fighting with his mind. He has no idea he's doing it, but that only makes his defenses stronger. It's a bit irritating, actually." Then it shrugged and asked, "So should I keep making small-talk or should we just dive in?"

Sam remained stonily silent—he had no choice in being here, but he wasn't going to play games.

"I agree, it's better to dive right in," the demon decided. "You'll be much easier to deal with than _him._ You already know what's what."

Sam remained utterly still, silently willing JJ to just stop beating up the dummy.

_Well, add that to the list of sentences I never thought I'd hear from my own head…_

"It's fairly simple, really. My little experiment failed, is all. I thought that I could learn the secret of JJ's ability if I let him be, but I didn't count on you two. For the first time in a long while, I was taken by surprise. And I knew that, college boy that you are, it wouldn't be long before you stumbled on the truth. So, I brought you here, for some damage control."

"Did you hurt anyone?" Sam asked quietly.

"Oh, for the love of…_why_ is that all guys like you ever care about?" the YED asked, sounding offended. "I'm giving you _answers_ here!"

"Did you?" Sam asked implacably.

"No. I didn't. Timing issue. We're all prone to them. Now, will you pay attention?"

Sam leaned against the wall without answering, and as the demon went on talking, he began to formulate his escape plan.

XXX

Half an hour later, Dean pushed the map aside and reached for his phone.

"Who're you calling?" Drake asked sharply, and Dean shushed as the phone on the other end began to ring.

"Roadhouse."

"Ellen. Hey, it's Dean."

"Oh, hey, sweetie. How are you boys?"

"Not so great. That's why I'm calling, actually. Pass me to Ash, would you?"

XXX

"…So, in the end, I can see I don't really have a choice," the YED continued, and Sam wished devoutly that his hands were free so that he could have the freedom to pull his hair out at the roots. "JJ has become a liability. He's outstripped his usefulness. So I brought him here to extract his gift. Defuse the proverbial bomb."

That information took Sam aback a little, mainly because on first look, his was a _gift_ to JJ. He himself would give an arm for someone to take his visions away from him, and it must be a thousand times worse for JJ, who didn't even know who he _was._

But gift-giving just wasn't the demon way. _There must be more to it…_

"That's all?" he asked cautiously.

"Yes. That's all." A pause. Then, "Of course, the extraction of such an inherent part of him will either make him insane or kill him. C'est la vie, though, right?"

"So you're going to kill him," Sam said, his voice cool even as his mind raced.

"That would be correct. And you're going to help me."

* * *

_Author's Note: The next (and last or second-to-last) chapter, may take a while to come up. I need a bit to work out the logistics--I am very, very bad with logistics--and even after that I actually have to _write_ the thing. So, it may be anywhere between one week and three. I'm sorry!!! Especially to _Slightly Confused?_ and _Toaster-chan, _for keeping you in suspense._


	10. Whoo And Wee And Fun Sorts

**Toaster-chan**: I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry! **ducks flying objects** I didn't mean to! He told me to! **points to Muse!Chibi!Sammy** You know he does The Face when I don't listen! You _know_ what that does to me!

**Slightly Confused?**: Oh, please, you have no idea how nice it was to hear you say that you actually cared where the story went. I was happy to keep it there. I am sorry you're not familiar with anything, though—you should watch the show. There's only one season out on DVD, but the second season comes out in September and the third season airs on TV sometime around there. I hope you decide to check out our boys! (And the car. Oh, my God, the car…)

* * *

Chapter 8

"You're not serious."

For the first time since Sam had disappeared, Dean felt something, and it was clear in his voice. The silence on the other line was answer enough to his angry statement, though.

"Damn it, Ash!"

He spent a few more minutes swearing while Ash threw in random words of explanation every time he paused for breath, and then he slammed his phone down, hanging up on Ash and even enjoying it a little.

"Problem?" Drake asked in a voice that cracked with his effort to keep it steady.

"He can't help us. The man's a student from MIT and Einstein's own rival and he can't do anything but sit on his hands while my brother is being tor—"

A small, choked sound came from the general direction of the couch, and that was enough to bring Dean back to the earth with a _thud_. That one sound drained all the anger out of him—along with every bit of energy he had left. Suddenly feeling every bit of ninety years old, Dean dropped into the nearest chair and draped his legs over the arm, folding his hands on his chest.

"Okay, so your contact failed you," Ryo said, his tone as businesslike as he could make it.

"Correction. My _genius_ failed me—my genius who has _never failed me before_," Dean replied with a stab of exasperation. But then, he really couldn't _expect_ them to realize how very bad it was that Ash had actually tried and failed to find Sam and JJ.

"Fine. But he isn't the only person you know, is he?" Ryo pressed, paying no heed to Dean's tone. "I mean, there must be others."

"Well, most of our friends are dead," Dean said, and didn't notice the six pairs of eyes that suddenly fastened on him with shock and pity. "But there is one guy. I don't think he could help, but I'll give him a call."

Fifteen minutes later, the phone was miraculously still intact, though lying on the floor across the room, and Dean had moved on to inventing new curse words rather than using the old, tired ones, upon finding out that Bobby was on a hunt somewhere in Washington and couldn't get to him for at least a few days.

And to top it all off, it had begun to rain.

XXX

"You're not serious."

For the first time, Sam was absolutely certain that the YED was joking with him. Never mind that despite everything, the demon had never actually _lied_ to him before. This _had_ to be a joke.

"You can't honestly be expecting me to up and murder my friend just because you told me to!"

The demon smiled, and the expression, as always, looked strange and warped on a human face. "Of course not. Someday, maybe, but not now. However, you're still going to do it, in the end."

"But…I…_why?"_ Sam spluttered. In a distant corner of his mind, he was embarrassed at his lack of composure, but right now it didn't matter. "What could you possibly join from having _me_ do something _you_ could do so much more easily?"

The demon shrugged, and again Sam was struck by the sheer perverted humanity of the gesture. "The truth? I brought you here simply because I couldn't do to you what I did to the others—that whole psychic-defense thing rearing its ugly head. But I think this is a rather brilliant twist on my part."

"But…but I don't know how," Sam said, and then stopped short in shock. The words made it sound like he was actually considering this, which of course he wasn't. He had absolutely no _reason_ to kill JJ—the guy clearly wasn't evil! "And even if I did it wouldn't matter because _I'm not going to kill my friend!"_

The demon's smile didn't waver. "But you're not sure of that, are you? After all, you did hesitate..."

"No! I didn't!"

"…Because you know deep down that I'm right. The boy is _dangerous_, Sammy. He's out of control. If _I _can't manage his power, then how can he possibly hope to?"

"You can't control my ability, either," Sam said, and the edge of desperation in his own voice caught him by surprise. Why was he trying to reason his way out, anyway? No one could _make_ him kill JJ…

Except…well, this demon might be able to.

Sam would have been the second-to-last person on Earth to admit it—second only to Dean—but he had never been particularly good at resisting demonic possession and the like. He'd always felt that he really ought to be—after all, he remained one of the few people in the world who was aware that he _could_ be possessed. That fact, combined with his psychic ability, _should_ indicate some level of resistance, but in fact the opposite seemed to be true.

So, basically, if the demon decided to _make_ him do this, there was very little Sam could do about it. About all he _could_ do was try and stall until he came up with a better plan—or until the cavalry arrived, whichever came first.

_Hurry, Dean…_

XXX

Drake was crossing over into panic now. Dean could see that much—and he could also see that the loss of control was triggering the same thing in everyone else. And the absolute worst part of it was that he himself was barely holding it together as it was.

Talking to Ash had _done_ something to him. He could no longer sink into that peaceful place where he could just think and not feel. The blanket of detachment was gone, as if it had never been, and Dean's mind was rapidly clouding over with fear.

And he was beginning to realize that though he would work at it until he dropped dead right here on Drake's living room carpet, he wasn't going to be able to find his brother. He wasn't going to stop trying to find a way, not ever, but he had no tracking options left—nothing to go on except his Sam-sense, which could really only tell him that Sam was still alive.

He'd failed, and it was all up to Sammy now.

XXX

Dean wasn't coming.

Sam couldn't say when that realization sank in fully, but he could say that when it did, a sort of calm descended over him. Dean couldn't find him—no one could fine him. Who could be expected to? _He_ didn't know where he was. Dean wasn't getting him out of this one—_couldn't_ get him out of this one.

He was on his own.

JJ had fallen silent in the half-hour since the YED had started talking about Sam killing him and about how he was deadly and would eventually kill everyone including Dean and about everything else bad in the world, but he didn't seem to be _there_ at all. He sat slumped against the wall across the room, his long limbs tangled in weird positions, his eyes shuttered and blank. And most disturbing of all were the moments when he would wrap his arms around himself and begin rocking slowly back and forth.

He looked…insane.

And Sam was scared, because it was all up to him now.

XXX

JJ was starting to forget why he was here. The world had dimmed until everything around him was black, but that was okay because he felt no desire to see anything.

The thing that had shown up and told him the truth about his memory loss was gone now, as if it had never been. It had literally disappeared under his hands after allowing him to beat up on it for several minutes. JJ was totally alone now. Even Sam wasn't there, and that was odd because he'd been the only one conscious when he'd been taken.

There was no one to rescue him now, and he couldn't even care.

He couldn't care that he was alone, that he was probably going to die soon, that he would never remember his friends or his boyfriend again. He was scared, terrified, but he was also just too empty to care.

A demon had taken a part of him away and was going to kill him soon, and he couldn't care.

Maybe he would even welcome it, if it didn't hurt too much. He was just so _tired_. He was tired of not knowing, tired of people looking at him with that mixture of pity and pain, tired of being a freak, and most of all, tired of feeling to spectacularly _guilty._ It all chafed at his mind, made him feel tiny and weak and raw like a newborn child, and he just couldn't _deal_ with it anymore.

So, yeah, maybe he was ready. He wasn't sure, but he hoped so, because it was going to happen anyway—of that he was sure—and he wanted to be prepared for it.

XXX

_Maybe_ _I can do it without killing him._

That thought occurred to Sam with some level of skepticism, but it was a good enough idea that he paused to think it through.

It was looking more and more likely that he wasn't going to be able to get them out if this. He was still bound by ropes that simply _would not give_, no matter how many tricks of the trade he applied, and even if he had a chance of getting free he had _no_ chance against the demon. But maybe…if he could suppress JJ's ability enough that it would _look_ like it wasn't there—maybe he would get away with it.

Of course, there were problems to consider. Like the fact that he didn't know if it was possible to simply _repress_ psychic ability, or have any idea at all how to do it himself. He also didn't have a clue how to get JJ out even if they did get away with the first part of the plan.

Still, it seemed to be his only option.

"…So you can really see the problem here. I really don't have any other choice _but_ to kill him. It's unfortunate, but…"

"Will it hurt him?"

"Probably. Like I said, the psychic energy is a very deep part of him. But it _will_ be quick, and the alternative is worse. He could kill anyone, anytime—including your sainted brother. And himself, of course. So in your bleeding-heart way of looking at things, maybe you'd even be doing him a favor."

Sam didn't listen to the last part. If he did, he would be tempted to make this easy, now that he had an excuse. Instead, he just said it fast before he had second thoughts.

"I'll do it."

He thought he sounded pretty convincing. He even managed to put a little crack in his voice, as if pained by his own words.

"Are you certain?"

Sam was sickened by the false sympathy underscored by mockery, and he allowed it to show. "Just tell me how."

XXX

JJ could pin down the exact moment when he felt someone in the darkness with him—it was the moment when he felt relief for the first time tonight, when he felt an overwhelming gratitude toward whoever was with him, whether it be friend or foe.

Little did he know that it was both.

"…Hello?" he called tremulously.

There was only silence.

"Who's there?" he called again.

No one answered, but JJ did feel a flicker of…something. Like…eyes, sweeping over him.

Searching.

XXX

Later, Sam wouldn't be able to say what he was seeing right now. The inside of a human mind was nothing like he would have expected, had he ever thought about it before. It was…_chaos._ Thoughts weren't neat or ordered or _readable_—they just whirled and wheeled and circled. He really couldn't see what anything _looked_ like. It was like looking at something too closely, with a magnifying glass—he got the feeling that if he would only back _up_, what he saw would make a lot more sense.

But he couldn't back up. His only option was to try and make sense of things as they were.

He wondered if the "psychic parts" would be difficult to find.

He wondered if JJ would fight him.

He soon found out the answer to both questions.

XXX

JJ couldn't figure out the personality of the seeker. It didn't _feel_ malevolent, but it seemed to be a little…intrusive. He felt as if it were studying some unseen part of him. And yet…it also seemed warm toward him.

So was a friend who invaded you still a friend?

JJ winced as he felt a headache coming on.

Clearly, he was in no fit state to ask these kinds of questions.

XXX

They were _wrong_.

Sam felt disgusted as he looked at the big patches that represented JJ's psychic abilities. They just…_sickened_ him, somehow. They were huge and red-angry and diseased—cancerous. They were hurting JJ—_killing_ him—and suddenly Sam just wanted them _gone_.

But…_no._ He couldn't. That would kill JJ. He just had to…make them healthy again. Yeah, that would do it…maybe…

Grim but determined, Sam got down to work.

XXX

He _hurt_. The Presence was _hurting_ him—cutting him. _Taking_ something from him. Something important, even if he didn't know exactly what it was.

JJ was suddenly a man in two parts. One part was actually grateful at whoever was stealing from his mind. It felt…cleansing. But the other part—the stronger part—was furiously, horrifically angry.

And that was the part that was rapidly taking over.

XXX

Sam felt that he had reached a turning point when the first attack came. It lashed out and wrapped around his mind, and it was _strong_. And angry. And it wanted him _out_.

Stubbornly, Sam pushed it away, but it kept coming back. He felt his defenses getting weaker. He had no idea how long he'd been at this, but he couldn't risk the YED joining him, so he had to finish soon—which he couldn't do if JJ kept trying to _kill_ him.

_JJ, STOP IT!_

XXX

JJ froze, the anger stayed for a moment by confusion.

"…Sam?"

The Presence paused, then a voice echoed again in JJ's mind.

_Yeah. It's me._

"_You're_ the one who's stealing from me?"

_Not stealing. I'm trying to _help_ you. So will you please stop attacking me?_

"But…but, Sam, you're hurting me."

His voice sounded tiny and pathetic to his own ears, and Sam's voice became gentle in his mind.

_I know. But it will help you in the end, okay? I promise._

JJ probably should have had to think about it—he wasn't sure how he could trust the validity of Sam's statement. He couldn't even really be sure this _was_ Sam. It could be someone who wanted to hurt him. It could even be the demon.

"…Okay."

XXX

It was pretty much smooth sailing from there. With JJ leaving him alone, Sam was able to wrestle the red, diseased spots of JJ's mind into submission with more ease.

It was _weird. _He had no idea what he was doing right now—he was basically running around in the dark. But it was working, and in a few more minutes the diseased parts were a nice, healthy icy blue.

After that, it took only a little while to secure barriers around the psychic parts, and then JJ's powers were bound and Sam's work was done.

He removed himself from JJ's mind and opened his eyes, looking around as JJ's hands dropped from his.

The YED was watching him with a small smile. "Good, Sammy. I expected it to take much longer. At least a day."

"How long?" he asked, and then was forced to clear his dry throat.

"Eight hours."

Sam choked.

"Yes…much less time than I expected. I wonder…"

"Sam?"

Sam stiffened as JJ spoke up behind him, sounding tired but perfectly fine otherwise.

"Sam, wha's goin' on?"

Slowly, the smile slipped from the YED's face, and he frowned. "Sammy, is there something you'd like to tell me?"

Sam looked at it, then at JJ, who was sitting up now, looking pale and exhausted and bewildered. He obviously had no idea where he was, or how much danger he was in. He didn't even seem to notice the demon.

And before he knew it, Sam was turning around and standing up, blocking JJ with his body and saying, "Don't touch him."

For the first time, he met those yellow eyes, and he knew suddenly that there would be no need for explanations. Those eyes could clearly see what he'd done without words.

For several minutes, the YED stared at him, plucking the whole story from his head. Then it said quietly, "You're going to make me hurt you if I want him."

Sam nodded.

"And there's nothing I can do to change your mind about this."

Sam shook his head.

"You're certain?"

"Yes."

Once again the demon stared at him—and then smiled.

"Well played, Sammy-boy." It looked at JJ, and its lip curled with contempt. "Guard him well."

And then it was gone, and Sam had no idea what had happened.

XXX

JJ's mind was a whirl of uncertainty. He had very little idea of what was happening around him. Pictures flashed through his brain—people, places, things, events, emotions…and after a moment his mind put a name to the images.

_Memories._

He _did_ know that Sam was with him. Standing in front of him, actually, and talking to someone. Someone with a lilting, melodious voice that frightened him somehow. The voice brought a face to mind—a handsome face with sharp features and yellow eyes and a cruel smile.

And then the voices were silenced, and Sam was crouching in front of him and saying something, and there were hands clutching at his shoulders and he was being shaken gently…

And then Sam pulled him to his feet and supported him in what he assumed was the direction of the door, and a thought occurred to him that cleared his mind as surely as a bucket of ice water.

_Drake…_

XXX

Dean was about to leave Drake's apartment again—he stopped there to check in once every hour before taking his map and going back out to search each building he'd circled on it, since it was the only option he had left—when his cell sounded a ring tone that made his heart stop before beginning to pound against his ribs.

He had the phone out of his pocket and pressed to his ear before anyone else seemed to realize it was ringing. There were several things he wanted to do—scream, yell, cry—but in deference to the others, he managed to keep his voice low, though deadly.

"Sammy, you'd better have one _hell_ of a story to tell me."

"You'll be on the edge of your seat. And it's Sam," Sam replied, sounding completely worn out.

"Whatever. Where—"

"On the way there. We're taking a cab. JJ's with me. He's fine, and Dean, I think he remembers. Everything."

_That_ gave Dean pause, and a thousand questions exploded in his head, but right then he was too angry to ask them.

"Just…hurry up and get back here."

He heard Sam chuckle tiredly as he hung up, and then he was immediately set upon by six very _loud_ people.

Zombie-like, he fought his way over to the couch and dropped onto it, rubbing a hand over his face and leaning back, closing his eyes and resting his legs on the coffee table.

But they wouldn't go away, and so he said without opening his eyes, "They're fine. They're on their way here. I don't know what happened yet. Now leave me alone so I can concentrate on not killing my brother as soon as I see him."

He heard them murmuring back and forth. Then two people joined him on the couch, the rest retreated to other parts of the room, and the waiting began.

He lost track of time, so it could have been a minute or an hour before he heard footsteps out in the hall. He was on his feet by the time the door opened, and then JJ came in, trailed by Sam.

Dean's anger drained away as soon as he laid eyes on his brother, replaced by a warm, fuzzy feeling that fluttered his stomach. He'd thought he was prepared enough not to embarrass himself upon seeing Sam, thought he'd be able to react with the usual sarcasm.

But apparently, having one's kid brother kidnapped by a deeply evil demon subverted normal behavior, because Dean found his body unresponsive when he told it to calm down.

He managed to establish that Sam was unhurt at he walked toward him, and when he got there he pulled Sam into a long, tight hug.

Sam stiffened in surprise, patting him awkwardly on the back. "Uh…Dean? Aren't you…pissed at me?"

"You have no idea, man," Dean murmured into Sam's jacket. His arms tightened for a moment and then he pushed Sam away. "You, Sammy, are an _idiot_," he growled, and Sam smiled at him before going to collapse on the couch, where Derek immediately grabbed him in a sideways embrace before moving to sit on the floor, making room for Dean to sit next to his brother.

Meantime, everyone else—except Nikki, who just sat looking thoughtful, and Derek, who was talking quietly to Sam—was staring at JJ, standing over near the door, looking puzzled.

"Stop _staring_ at me, you guys!" he whined. "I'm not a baboon in a zoo! If I was, I'd throw food at you, see?"

Drake fell open at this blatant JJ-ism, and he stared.

"Oh, yeah, I forgot to tell you. JJ got his memory back," Dean said carelessly, and grunted when Sam's hand cracked across the back of his head.

The expected bedlam did not erupt. Instead, everyone just kept staring for several long moments.

Then, quite suddenly, Drake broke the stillness by launching himself across the room and grabbing JJ in an embrace so tight his eyes actually popped out before pulling him into a kiss that made the onlookers blush and avert their eyes.

It soon became clear that the two were not going to be separating any time soon, nor did they seem too interested in anyone else. So, after waiting for what he felt was an acceptable length of time, he turned to Sam and interrupted whatever conversation he and Derek were having.

"So talk, Sammy."

XXX

Several hours later, the Winchester brothers finally made it back to their motel room, after spending a great deal of time going over the story again and again, trying to analyze the YED's reason for letting them go, and how JJ's memories had come back so suddenly. They'd finally decided not to question the first part, and that Sam's meddling had probably flipped a few extra switches in JJ's mind to bring the memories back, and then Sam, Dean, Derek, Nikki, Diana, Ryo, and Dee departed, leaving Drake and JJ alone to make out.

By now, both Dean and Sam were pretty much done, and it was in a daze that they showered and changed and fell into their beds. There would be much to talk about tomorrow, but now wasn't the time for words.

Sam was almost asleep by the time he pulled the covers up, but there was still something important he had to say.

"Dean?" he asked sleepily.

He heard shifting in the other bed, and knew Dean had turned over to look at him. "Yeah?"

"I'm sorry."

"You're an idiot, Sammy," Dean replied, with warm affection this time. "Now get some sleep."

* * *

_Author's Note: Well, that was much easier than I thought it would be, though the ending feels a bit rushed. I _am_ sorry for the overall drawn-out-ness of the chapter, and for the fact that I sort of abandoned logic. All of these things I should probably fix before posting, but right now I just want to update, and then _sleep_, because it's like two-thirty in the morning._

_Anyways, the epilogue should be up soon, and it'll maybe explain things a little more. Thanks for sticking with me! (No, seriously, it was _very_ big of you guys...)_


	11. Epilogue: Falling Action

**Garita**: I'm sorry, but…yeah. This is the last chapter. I guess it _is_ kind of sudden, isn't it? Well, anyways, thanks so much for reviewing!

* * *

Epilogue

JJ was different.

It was a subtle thing, not something you could put your finger on, and most people didn't notice it. He was hyperactive and prone to caffeine and sugar highs. He still did that scary leaping-out-of-the-shadows pouncing thing. His sharpshooting skills had not diminished with his weeks away. In fact, one could say he was a better cop than ever. He'd refused psychiatric counseling but he didn't seem to need it, anyway. He seemed…_fine_.

But he wouldn't talk about the demon, or his capture, or his lost memory, not to anyone. He never _said_ as much, but he seemed able to tell when someone was about to broach the subject in time to steer them gently in another direction—but delicately, so that no one realized he was doing it.

JJ was different, but JJ was also the same, and that was why only one person knew how much he was hurting.

XXX

That first night, Drake didn't ever think he'd get enough of just _talking_. He and JJ stayed up until three in the morning, curled up in bed together, chatting until their throats were sore. Drake felt his chest swell like a balloon when JJ made no attempt to extract himself from his arms, because that, more than anything else, told him that he really did have his man back at last.

But that same night, JJ woke after barely an hour, a shaking, sobbing, pathetic mess that no one ever would have expected he _could_ be. He curled up with his face buried in Drake's chest, and Drake held him, and they remained that way even after JJ had fallen asleep, without saying a single word about what had provoked the storm in the first place.

Drake didn't say anything about it on that first night, or on the second or the third, but by the fourth time, he couldn't bring himself to steer clear of the subject anymore.

"JJ, this has got to _stop_," he said firmly as JJ burrowed into him after that night's dream.

JJ pulled away immediately, looking stunned and hurt, and Drake scurried to clarify.

"No, not…I didn't mean it like that! I just meant…JJ, this is the fourth night in a row that you've woken up terrified. The fourth night in a row that you've gone mostly without sleep. You've done this every single night since Sam—"

"So?" JJ said, in the defensive tone that he usually reserved for when Berkley Rose was lecturing him about decorum in the workplace. "It's not like it's affecting my work or my abilities or my waking life at all—"

"Yeah, and that's exactly what worries me," Drake cut him off. "You're not _dealing_ with any of it. I mean, I know you're usually Mr. Nothing's-Wrong-With-The-World-At-All, Mr. Everyone-Else's-Life-May-Suck-But-Never-Mine, Mr.—"

"God, Drake, do you need _directions_ to get to the point?" JJ said, only he didn't sound like JJ at all. He sounded…_angry._

"My point is that this is way too much for even you to repress. It isn't _healthy._"

"Thanks for the life lesson, Dr. Phil," JJ snapped in that voice that wasn't his. "Now can we please go back to sleep?" And he laid back down, as far as possible from Drake's side of the bed.

The sight tore at Drake's heart, and he almost obeyed the not-quite-order, but then he remembered Sam's words during the conversation that seemed _so long ago_ now.

"_What he won't do is talk about it, so you're gonna have to make him."_

He laid back sown, too, and let the silence spiral before he spoke.

"Look, babe. I know I can't possibly understand what you went through. That's what this is about, right? Well, fine. Don't talk to me." The words actually gave him a sharp, physical pain in the vicinity of his heart, but he forced himself to keep talking. "But you have to open up to _someone_. Sam, or Dean, or…hell, _Rose_, if you must, even though I can't see how he'd get it any better than me. Just…please, baby, don't shut it all away. It'll kill you. And I…I can't lose you again. And…I love you."

Still JJ didn't say a word.

"Well…that's it. That's all I've got," Drake almost whispered, and then he turned over on his side and closed his eyes, forcing back the tears.

He'd almost finished into a restless sleep when JJ's body pressed up against his again, his hair tickling Drake's chin. Automatically, Drake's arms slid around him, and JJ hugged him back.

"I'm sorry," JJ said thickly. "For scaring you so much, and for being so…_emo_, are they calling it these days?" He giggled, an unbelievably welcome sound, and was quiet for a moment before continuing. "It's not that I don't _want_ to talk to you. I do. It's just….I'm sorting it all out. Trying to put it back in order. And when I do…you'll be the first to know, okay? I promise."

It wasn't perfect, but it was a start.

XXX

Sam and Dean left town the week after JJ's rescue, and the only question anyone had about it was why they'd stayed so long.

The answer to that was simple enough—Sam wanted to stick around. The way _he_ put it, he and Dean still had business here, but what it basically came down to was that he wanted to make sure JJ was all right, he wanted to stop by Mother Maria's orphanage to see the Winchesters' friend Morgan, and Derek was still in New York.

So, the Winchesters had spent their week in a state of R&R that had been, until now, unheard of in their lives. Dean had been allowed to sleep as late as he wanted, Sam regained the strength he'd lost fighting JJ's mind rather more quickly than he otherwise would have, and the two of them got along remarkably well, courtesy of the time they were able to spend out of each others' hair.

The third day, the brothers went to the orphanage with Dee, who'd wormed his way out of work for the occasion, and the old nun Maria and the homeless teenager and child, Morgan and Sari, were delighted to see them—to a point that it actually made Dean, for one, just plain uncomfortable.

The two enormous meals they'd had there made the massive amount of hugging worth it, though.

Dean spent the fourth and fifth days hustling pool at several different bars, and Sam accompanied him with Derek. The two sat by the hour, downing beers and catching up, and Sam had never known how _good_ it would feel to share his life with someone so _close_ to him.

And Derek was an impressive audience, too. Once he got over the first shock of it, he was surprisingly steady about the whole affair. He had questions, and no small amount of them, but he seemed to consciously keep them mostly to impersonal things, rather than forcing Sam to relive painful memories.

Then again, even in the short time he'd known her, Sam guessed that it _would_ take this level of tact and calm to stay in a relationship with Nikki for so long.

Still, he couldn't help but wonder what other facets of his best friend he'd ever seen.

Then again, maybe, now, he would have the chance to find out.

But regardless of all of this, the Winchesters couldn't stay in one place forever. Time and jobs were flying by, and presently even Sam had to admit that it was about time they went back to work.

XXX

"Why do you two always leave so _early_?" Dee grouched, standing on the sidewalk with his arm slung around Ryo's shoulders, nursing a large Styrofoam cup of coffee in his free hand.

"Ask him," Dean griped, gesturing toward Sam, who was deep in discussion with…well, pretty much everyone at once, because Sam was good at that.

Dee's grumbles continued as the three of them went to join the rest of the group, but at a quieter level on account of Ryo had just smacked him across the back of the head for being impolite.

"So we'll meet up at my parent's place in Washington Depot at Christmas," Derek was saying. "I want you to meet my family."

"And you're going to make it to Connecticut even if you're on the west coast Christmas Eve, because I have friends in the CIA and I _can_ have you killed," Nikki added.

"Uh…thanks, sweetie," Derek said into the sudden uneasy silence.

"You're welcome!" Nikki said brightly.

"Can we go now?" Diana asked, sounding even grumpier than Dee or Dena. Then again, her mood could have stemmed from the fact that she'd gotten a call from a superior this morning, and apparently several people back in L.A. were screaming for her head. "Our flight leaves in an hour."

She looked so formidable, standing there in today's bright red miniskirt, arms crossed, spiked heels tapping on the ground, that even Nikki—who, after all, did have _some_ sense of self-preservation—didn't argue.

Sam felt a sharp stab of sadness as he watched Derek climb into Diana's rental car, but he reminded himself firmly that this wouldn't be the last time they saw each other, and then he forced his eyes back to the four people left.

Dee and Ryo, being due at the 27th Precinct, didn't stay for longer than it took to shake hands and perform the ritualistic goodbyes, but even as they left it became clear that Drake and JJ weren't leaving, and Sam actually preferred it that way.

All it took was a raised eyebrow in Dean's direction, a head-tip toward Drake, and then his brother was drawing Drake off, leaving him alone with JJ.

They stared at each other uncomfortably for a moment before Sam asked, "So…how are you?"

JJ shrugged. "Oh, you know, everyone's treating me like glass and Rose tried to force a shrink on me, and I'm still trying to figure out how crazy I really am on a scale of one to ten—"

"You're not crazy," Sam said gently. "My brother would say differently, but it's true. You're completely sane, even if you wish you weren't."

JJ stared at him. "I don't—"

"Yes, you do. I wish the same thing sometimes, and I've dealt with this kind of thing all my life."

JJ chuckled at that, but there was obviously still something on his mind, and Sam's suspicion was confirmed when he blurted out, "You're sure my…abilities…are gone, right?"

Sam hesitated, wondering, then said, "No. Not gone. But they're locked down, yeah. They won't be coming back to bother you."

JJ's features relaxed in his usual thousand-watt smile. "Yay. 'Cause I didn't like 'em so much."

XXX

"So he's safe now, right?" Drake asked Dean nervously, glancing over at JJ and Sam. "That…that thing will leave him alone?"

Dean shrugged. "Well, he's pretty useless as a psychic now, so I'd say yeah. Sam pretty much took care of it."

Drake nodded, and leaned against the brick outer wall of the motel the Winchesters had just checked out of. Dean did the same and asked off-handedly, "So has he talked to you yet?"

Drake lifted his shoulders in a shrug. "Little more every day. He doesn't remember the month he was gone—I don't think he ever will. He's still freaked out by the whole thing. He still hasn't talked to me about the whole psychic thing. But…we're getting there."

Dean gazed at his brother, deep in conversation with JJ, flashing that reassuring grin every once in a while, and the words came, unbidden, before he even realized he was thinking it.

"Maybe I am, too."

XXX

Sam watched JJ and Drake until they'd turned into little sparks in the distance, and as he faced forward he asked, "Think they'll be okay?"

Dean looked sideways at him, wondering yet again what he was feeling about _his_ role in all this. They'd never really talked about that, except the bare facts.

"Think you will?"

Sam glanced over, and smiled a little. "I'll answer yours if you answer mine."

Silence fell over the car, and neither question was answered.

And as always, that was somehow okay with both of them.

For now.

XXX

Despite a defeat that never should have happened, the Yellow-Eyed Demon was really rather pleased with this whole experience. Sam Winchester may have beaten him in this battle, but he'd also reached the next level of his power.

Things were falling into place at last.

_Soon, Sammy. Soon…_

* * *

_Author's Note: Well, that was either a very long epilogue or quite a short chapter. I'm sorry, guys—there was more to cover than I thought, and I'm still not sure any of it actually makes a lick of sense._

_But anyways, that's it! It's done! Thanks to you guys who stuck with me through the whole thing!_


End file.
